The Teratogenic Effect7
John tried not to laugh. Amused at her utter sincerity, her seriousness. Turned on by it as well. He exchanged a glance with Carson who appeared equally amused. John smirked. "Yeah, I think we figured that out, Moira, obviously." He indicated the baby in her arms.
"No! I'm serious, John! Apart from the obvious, I mean! Apart from falling in love!"
"I know the answer to this, doctor. You think I am impossibly gorgeous and I can't get enough of that pert little–"
"John!" she scolded as Carson laughed. "No! It's the gene. Think about it, John! The way we were, the way we are...the escalating passion."
John raised a brow. "You mean the sex?"
'Yes. No! Yes, but not all of it." She stepped closer, guided him to a more private corner. The baby prattled. "John, you remember how, how intense it was. Is. The escalating, exuberant sex. We both felt it. The irresistible attraction to each other. What if the ATA gene played a part in that? Subliminally, of course. Drawing us together to produce a stronger ATA gene carrier. Johnny," she clarified needlessly.
John stared. "You mean the sex," he repeated.
"Yes. No! John, you–"
"No." He frowned. "It has nothing to do with the damn gene. You. Me. Johnny. You really think all that exuberance and passion was nothing more than a fucking gene?"
"No! Of course not! I meant on a subconscious level. It makes sense. If what you say is true, that Johnny can somehow sense the gene in others how do we know that we couldn't do the same, except in a way we weren't even aware of? To produce stronger ATA carriers, like Johnny who would..." She broke off as another thought surfaced. "Tell me, out of all your lots some women how many had the gene?"
"Moira!" he snapped, annoyed. "Enough! This is fucking ridiculous!" He began to leave the infirmary
She followed, prattling baby in her arms. "John! Please! This is important! John!" She caught up with him, walked beside him. "Please, I'm sorry, I don't mean to upset you but I need to know. Please. How many?"
He glowered, eyed her. Eyed his son who had quieted. Big blue eyes solemn. He drew them to their quarters. Entered. Finally answered. "A few. Some. Hell, I don't know. It's not like I ever asked. It wasn't in my criteria." He sat on the bed, watched her set the baby into his playpen.
"But you knew later, right? One way or another." She turned to view him. "I need you to think on this, John. Those particular women. The attraction. The sex was more, more intense, wasn't it? Don't you worry, sweetie, I won't be upset." She waited.
John sulked, trying not to squirm under her almost dispassionate gaze. He felt like a specimen under the microscope. Hated that feeling. He considered, glancing at his son who was crawling around the playpen, babbling. He licked his lips. "Yes."
"But you still broke up with them. You didn't fall for them. You didn't feel the compulsive need to stay with them, to mate with them. Until you met me. And I bet, I just bet that I have the stronger gene. Stronger than those other women had..." She began to pace, voice serious. "Of course this was all subliminal, we weren't even aware of it because we fell so in love, connected on such an intimate level. Not just the sex but all of the rest of it. You know, John, it only makes sense. To produce stronger ATA carriers. A stronger gene for the functioning of the city, for it's very survival. But why make the city like that? Why create a hierarchy of your society like that and prevent half of the population from ever being able to run the city's more complicated functions? Why create a deliberate means to ostracize half of the galaxy? Why base your society on genetic inheritance? And the gene breeding would only work sometimes, unless they found a way to breed for it, but then what about Johnny and his double? I don't know if he is stronger than you, but he..." She broke off again, staring at nothing, thinking.
John eyed his son who was pulling himself to his feet to awkwardly stand. To grin at his father. He started to climb, gurgling. John stood and caught the baby before he fell. Swung him high to make the infant giggle.
Moira watched them. "John?"
"Whatever, baby. You lost me at genetic inheritance."
"But you do see it, right? I mean–"
"No. I don't." He bounced the baby on his lap as he sat on the bed again. "You didn't believe me when I told you junior here could sense the gene, and now you do?"
"Yes. No. Maybe. I don't know. If you are right then the implications are–"
"Nothing. Because it still doesn't mean it affected us. Because our genes are weaker than his, right?"
"Maybe...yes...at least mine is. Maybe not yours, I don't know."
"Moira, no gene is determining my life! It's not telling me who to fuck or who to marry and it sure as hell is not telling me who to impregnate."
"Okay, John, I just–"
"No!" He stood, baby balanced at his shoulder. "You are not going to reduce what we have to some fucking gene, nor is my son a scientific curiosity!"
"Of course not, John. I just meant–"
"No, Moira!" He strode to her. "Not even on a subliminal level, got it? I love you. You love me. We caused the passion, the exuberance, the escalation. We produced Johnny. Us! No fucking gene controls my actions or my feelings, or yours. Got it?" The baby started to fuss.
"Okay, John," she soothed, baffled by his vehemence. She touched his arm, kissed him. Kissed the baby. "I'm sorry. You're right. Of course it was us, our love, our passion. Our own exuberance."
"Not even on a subliminal level, Moy," he insisted, somewhat mollified. "Okay?"
"Okay, John." She kissed him again. "You–"
"Here." He handed her the baby. "I've got work to do before we leave tomorrow. You drop this now. All of it, except the part pertaining to Johnny's sensing the gene and the Wraith." He eyed her sternly. Eyed his son. Abruptly left.
Moira sighed. Kissed the baby. "Johnny, there's something there. I know it. You even know it. We'll just have to make your father see it too."
John was staring at a report, but his mind kept revolving over his wife's words. Her questions about the Ancients. Her assertions over the gene. About his lots some women. About their own relationship. About Johnny. He scowled, fingers tapping on the table. Considering her words again. He knew she only meant it as a subliminal, subconscious attraction of which they were not even aware, having nothing to do with how they felt about each other. The passion and the trust. The darkness of their respective pasts. He thought about the other women. Which ones had in fact had the gene. Recalling the brief relationships, the sex.
"I hear you are going to Earth so I composed a short supply list of...oh oh..." Rodney hesitated, seeing John's pensive, brooding expression. Fingers drumming on the table. "Here." Rodney slid a pad to him.
John broke from his thoughts. "Huh? Oh." He eyed the pad. Quirked a brow. "Short list?"
"Well, the first one was three pages long," Rodney admitted. Took a seat. "So...what is it? You looked deep in thought."
"Let me ask you something, Rodney. Does Katie have the ATA gene?"
"Huh?" Rodney considered. "No. She doesn't. Why?"
"No reason."
"No reason? What's this about, John?"
John hesitated. "But you don't have the gene naturally. You had the shot."
"Yes, but it is every bit as effective and functional as yours!" he snapped, defensive. Eyed his friend. The sullen expression. " John, what is this about?"
"Let me ask you something," he repeated. "Why would the Ancients construct this city, construct their very society around a fucking gene?"
Rodney blinked, shrugged. "Who knows? Hubris? Control of the galaxy and the societies they propagated out here? Defense of the city and their society from the Wraith?"
"Even in the beginning when there were no Wraith?"
"Well, yes, I...oh. That's an interesting point. They must have instituted that as a result of the Wraith. To prevent any incursions."
"But how did they know? I mean how did they know how to do that? And how did they know the Wraith would develop or evolve, as Moira would say, into such a dire threat not only to them but to the entire galaxy? Why didn't they prevent that from happening in the first place?"
"Who knows? Hubris? Maybe by then there were already experiencing problems with resources. Maybe a dilution of the gene already. Maybe they couldn't produce anyone like Johnny any more. Maybe the genetic lines were already weakening and they couldn't find a way to strengthen them or to artificially produce it like we did."
"Huh."
"The Ancients were more advanced but they didn't know everything, John. They made mistakes just like every society does. Every culture. The Wraith. Talk about a colossal mistake on a galactic scale! Not to mention the stealing of populations to seed this galaxy with life. Only to have those societies repressed and unable to advance beyond the most primitive technological developments. Because of the Wraith. And then there's that stupid policy of non-interference. Not even helping the very people they endangered by their own experiments."
"Yeah, there's that," John agreed. "That pisses me off."
"Me too." Rodney shrugged. "So what are you asking about? The gene? Is there something wrong with the kid?"
"No, he's fine. No, nothing to do with him. Moira was just expostulating about it and it got me wondering about it as well."
"You mean the likelihood of producing another kid with a double?"
John blinked. "Um, no. But now that you mention it...yeah. Or anyone producing another one like that."
"Oh." Rodney blinked. "You meant if Katie and I...whoa, whoa, we're not even close to that yet!" The scientist held up his hands as if to avoid an attack.
John smiled at his friend's consternation. "Are you sure? Johnny could use a playmate, you know. And I would be a terrific uncle."
"What?" Rodney exclaimed, backing away from the table in genuine shock. "Whoa, whoa, let's just slow this down, all right? I told you, we're not even close to any of that, not even close to even approaching a, a, an engagement...not even close to have any consecutive dates, not even close to having, having, having..." he spluttered.
John laughed, stood. "Easy, Rodney, don't have a heart attack, okay? I was just saying, is all." He snatched the pad off the table. "But if you are genetically disposed towards any woman who has the gene I think you should act now, because, face it, Rodney, you're not getting any younger. See ya."
"What? John...you...oh ha ha! John! Genetically...what?" Rodney floundered, staring after him.
