The eye of the lion

All that had been so long ago.

A fleeting movement in front of her jolted her from her thoughts.

She looked towards the bedroom window and saw a small robin knocking on the window-pane with its beak. She watched it for a couple of seconds and then smiled.

It was such a beautiful smile, so full of life, like the ones that Marina of Tuscany used to display to the world.

But this was not the same Marina.

She got up from the edge of the bed and walked towards the window. The little bird was still there, despite Marina’s closeness. She slowly pressed her fingers against the glass trying not to startle the little creature, who, to her surprise, sang a few happy notes, looked at her, and then fluttered away while she watched. Then Marina looked down towards the garden, and saw one of the guards doing the rounds with his Doberman.

The smile vanished from her lips.

It was two months since she had arrived at Netgen. Two months in which her enthusiasm had slowly dwindled, giving way to a terrible feeling of confinement. She felt like a prisoner.

It wasn’t that they treated her badly, not in the least. Everyone was very courteous towards her, even friendly, but it was clear that she was under a steely vigilance, as demonstrated by the camera in her room which scrutinized her tirelessly 24 hours a day, and that made her feel very unhappy.

On one occasion she had gotten as far as the elevator on the level where she was allowed to wander freely. A uniformed guard, with a mass of communication devices on his head, saw her coming and slowly stepped between her and the elevator doors. Neither one said anything, but she understood perfectly well that that’s where her freedom ended.

The first few days after arriving in England, it could be said that things had been very interesting.

A doctor-like man called Waiss had welcomed her very enthusiastically. Afterwards, as they talked, she had very anxiously described the troubles she was suffering, and he had appeared attentive and understanding.

Then he had left his office for a moment and returned with a piece of paper in his hand, which he handed to her with a fatherly smile. It was a check for twenty thousand Euros. Marina had looked at it, stunned.

“It’s just a down-payment,” Waiss had said. “When you finish the work I’ll give you another one to cover the rest.”

That was marvelous! But at that time they still didn’t talk about the baby.

That day she settled in and spent the rest of the day resting and thinking happily, while she fingered the check and read it over and over, that that piece of pale blue paper represented the one thing she most longed for in life: her father’s freedom. A new life for them both. Fewer hardships and even the possibility of setting up a small business which she and Pietro would run. He would not need to be a postman any more and ruin his kidneys with that mailbag and work like a mule for a pittance. At last he could rest and she would take care of him. They would be very happy and one day a good, decent man would come into her life, and she would marry him and they would give Pietro Ciampi a horde of beautiful grand-children who would brighten his last days.

And with those sweet thoughts she fell asleep clasping the check to her chest.

The next day she got up with a radiant smile on her lips and she sang while she bathed. After she had put away the good breakfast a black girl brought to her room, Waiss appeared again, inviting her in his correct Italian with an American accent, to have a look around the factory.

After the tour, which the girl took in with child-like curiosity, Waiss invited her to have some coffee and a chat in his office.

She accepted, realizing that he had omitted to tell her something in their previous talk, and she was intrigued to know what it could be. Once there, Waiss showed her some large color photos which she perused with curiosity.

“Do you know what in Vitro fertilization is, Marina?” asked Waiss, airily. Marina nodded.

“Yes, my father used to bring magazines home and I read a few articles about it. It’s very interesting.”

“Bene” said Waiss in his modest Italian. He looked at her for a few seconds, as though measuring her words and then added, “That technique is part of the process we talked about, Marina. Part of the work we have asked you to do for us.”

For a moment Marina appeared to be translating what Waiss had just said. Then her eyes opened wide.

“Am I going to have a baby?!”

Waiss realized that it was a sensitive moment, and he smiled, replying in a soothing voice.

“Well... yes, it is in the contract. The child is very important, he will make a huge contribution to the medical world and help us to prevent serious illnesses that kill many people. The contract talks clearly about the fertilization process... I thought you had understood that, seeing as the contract was drawn up in Italian...”

Marina was silent. She remembered that because of her excitement she had not read certain parts of the document which seemed too technical for her, and that she’d skimmed over them in order to sign the contract. It was her fault. Her head started spinning. A baby! How could she do it? She was dumb-struck.

“Of course...” said Waiss’ voice drawing her out of her stupor. “You are in no way obligated. We can tear up the contract and you are free to go.”

Cunningly, he picked up the document.

“You would be free of every obligation,” he confirmed.

Marina started. To break the contract would mean to give back the money. To return home defeated. Life imprisonment for Pietro. Without knowing how, she heard herself answer.

“Who would be the child’s father?...”

Waiss smiled, mentally congratulating himself on his ability to control the girl. He tried to use his most soothing tone.

You don’t have to worry, Marina. As you know, with in Vitro fertilization, sexual relations are not necessary to get pregnant. No man would touch you. And, as the birth would be by cesarean, you would still be - technically - a virgin. The sperm donor would be unknown to you, because the selection of ideal genetic material is performed by computer.

Marina started to feel sick.

“What would happen to the child?...” she asked at last. “That’s not in the contract.”

Waiss reddened.

“The child would remain legally in the company’s custody,” he managed to say.

“That means he wouldn’t stay with me?” asked Marina with a grave face. Her head was awhirl.

“You could visit him whenever you wanted, Marina,” Waiss

lied. “Travel costs wouldn’t be a problem.”

The room was spinning around Marina. She leaned her hands on Waiss’ desk and gazed out of the office window, looking at the trees and trying to clear her mind.

Waiss noticed her condition and leaned towards her, saying in a confident tone,

“Please don’t rush this. You don’t have to make a decision now. Have a rest, sleep on it. I’m traveling to Paris tonight...” As he said it, he shot an unconscious glance at the brown leather briefcase with the electronic locks which was lying on a sofa. Then he continued.

“...for a business meeting, just for one day. I will return tomorrow night, and we can talk the day after tomorrow, in the morning, what do you think?”

Marina nodded silently. She studied Waiss for a moment and then got up, turning towards the door. In the doorway she stopped and turned back towards Waiss. She sighed and then said with a tired voice,

“Will I at least be able to name the baby what I want?”

“Of course!” Waiss lied again. “After all, you will be his mother.”

With a sad smile, Marina turned and left.

Waiss watched her go and smiled, taking his seat. He

turned his comfy leather chair towards the window and looked outside. He liked the little Italian girl. She was pretty, healthy and naïve, perfect for his purposes. The business of the father in jail was fantastic because it allowed him to control her without problems and break through her indecision.

He smiled to himself. The poor little fool. She dared to want to keep the child for herself, and even name him. As if it hadn’t cost him half his life to plan him, and a whole fortune to be able to bring him to life! Gullible creature. As if it had been easy to dedicate all the power of his brilliant mind to drawing out the precious secrets of DNA through years and years of patient, long-suffering investigation.

Ingenuous peasant-girl! As if finishing off his best and oldest friend, Ed Kelly, for whom he had financed his whole career to be able to relieve the stupid man of that precious hair, had been an easy or pleasant job.

Bold girl, who dared to want that baby for herself, when he had just defied the most powerful man in Christendom, blackmailed him and deceived him, in order to obtain the funds to beget that baby. Joshua would be his son! His alone! Joshua... his perfect, divine son! The first of a new superior race of perfect beings, of whom he, Elias Waiss would be the father. Elias Waiss, father of the new, perfect human race.

Immortal benefactor of humanity!

He jumped up and took deep breaths of the fresh evening air. He stretched out his arms and closed his eyes. Then he turned back towards his office and looked at the door Marina had left through. He thought about the check for twenty thousand Euros that he had given the girl and smiled ironically. He told himself it was a pity that the poor thing would never get to cash it. Once Joshua was born, she would no longer be necessary. It was lucky that her only living relative was in jail without a hope of ever getting out. That way no-one would miss Marina when she disappeared.

He buttoned up his suit jacket. He picked up his briefcase and walked towards the door. As he closed it, he thought about his appointment in Paris and about Voquessi.