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Mrs. Yongé(continued)
LOMAINE OWEN YONGE - 2097 Under happier conditions, I would have greatly enjoyed visiting the nineteen-fifties. As it is, I have to be content with knowing I have saved my family. When they discover what I have done, I will be erased. Or at best divided into controllable parts and downloaded into various networks where my abilities will be appreciated but my personal configuration neutralized. I do not care; it was something I had to do. I know that I have altered the time line and I am no longer fit to be part of contemporary society, but I believe I had no choice. There are only four genetic disorders which they have not yet eliminated, one being Carteld's Syndrome in which the victim carrying the faulty gene suffers from depression so deep it can lead to violent forms of suicide in which he may take others along with him. Only in 2097, there are countless ways to take millions along with one. My egg-son inherited the disorder. Mainstream science can cure him by gene alteration but since the very same gene that carries Carteld's also will give him artistic genius, that will be given up along with the disorder. He is four months old and I have postponed his official genetic mapping longer than is legal. I mapped him myself as soon as he was born and learned that he carried the trait. Soon they would know and substitute for that gene an innocuous one so he would grow up without the divine genius of his famous ancestor. I and my partner and friend, Tropo, (he was .7889052 cyber) constructed a viable method of altering this gene without losing its artistic bestowal and we traced the gene back in my family through my egg-mother's line. Although that was hardly necessary with Susan Steiner's paintings projected on the sides of buildings and displayed in museums, hardly necessary after her notorious desperate end. However we were not permitted to obtain rights to the enzyme mixture needed for the procedure. There were political and even more sinister forces determined to prevent us from claiming our rights and during my absence from our pod, invaders destroyed Tropo. He had been my companion for twenty-two years. If I had been present, they would have finished me then also. My only reason to continue was to save my egg-son's genius. I had to break all laws and risk everything to locate my great-grandmother and make the alteration. I understand that I have changed history. I understand that I have about five more minutes to live. The Time Police, the Senator's androids and only God knows who else have already entered the quad.
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