The Great Filter

Prologue

The global birth rate fell to 2.1 children per woman in 2069, below the threshold to maintain the world population for the first time.

Living conditions have improved for everyone in the world. 98% of women have access to education and are accepted in the workforce from South East Asia, to South America, to the Middle East and Africa. As a result, women are having children later in life, and having fewer of them.

There is another reason for the drop in birth rate: rising infertility. Many believed this is related to women having children later in life, but something is happening, especially in high density areas, where women are finding it harder to get pregnant, and if they do, miscarriages now account for 51% of all pregnancies.

As a result of this changing world, Africa is left as the only continent still growing, with the youngest average age of 24.2 years old and birth rate of 3.1. There is a global shortage for labor as countries compete with increasingly better incentives to lure young workers to join their workforce. Companies struggle for profits amid rising wages and invest increasingly in technology to automate wherever possible.

Part 1: Complications

Shenzhen, China — June 14th, 2069

Local Birth Rate: 1.8

Fan woke up to blood. Again.

The first time was terrifying. Although she knew to expect it, she was still frightened and immediately became deeply depressed. She was only 10 weeks pregnant and hoped she would be the first of all her friends to have a baby on the first try.

Her husband, Liu, was supportive as always, at least as much as a husband can be. He told her they would try again when she was ready. He assured her it would be different next time. Maybe she could take a break from work like she had been talking about. And so here she is, 4 months later, and she is too distraught to move or say anything to Liu. Instead, she silently cries unable think about the future.

Liu woke up a few minutes later, saw Fan’s tears, leaned over and held her until the tears faded. He got up, ran a bath and helped Fan to the shower. Once Fan was in the bath and settled he dressed the bed and ran the laundry.

He checked in on Fan again, who said she didn’t need anything as she stared at the fogged over window. Liu walked to the kitchen to make some tea and as he waited for the kettle to boil, sat at the counter stool and cried, needing to be strong in front of Fan but now, all alone, unable to hold in his sadness.

All he ever wanted to be was to be a Dad. Not an engineer, which he was fine at. Not a well known technical analyst on the news streams where he was a guest just about every night. And he certainly didn’t care about the money he had made investing in tech companies that had made him and Fan so comfortable they didn’t have to work. Money is not something he ever valued. All he really cared about was being a great father and raising a family.

His Dad still talked about how all his best adventures were with Liu. Every time Liu went somewhere new or tried a product for the first time, he would wonder what his kids would think. Kids…as if multiple were possible, they’ll be lucky if they have one, let alone siblings. Even adoption isn’t a guarantee anymore.

Liu realized the kettle was whistling, who knew for how long. He made his tea and sat back down. “Shit…now what?”, he muttered to himself.

Lagos, Nigeria — July 2nd, 2069

Local Birth Rate: 3.1

To say Adekemi was “the smart one” would be underestimating Babatunde. Yes, Kemi was the youngest ever winner of the legendary Alibaba coding competition at 16, and was generally known to be the future of the Nigerian economy, maybe Africa itself, but Tunde was special too, just not in the ways the new economy cared about.

The truth was, Tunde hated computers. Well, less the computers themselves. How can one hate plastic and metal? He just loved being outside, feeling the sun on his face, and building things with his hands. His parents knew early on that he was smart and tried to steer him into math, or at least engineering, but school didn’t work for him. During class he would say he had to go to the bathroom and then instead just leave campus. Most of the time they would find him across the street in the park widdling wood into a tool of some sort, but then he began riding his bike to the garbage dump to rummage through old parts to create machines and odd structures varying from an ATV dune buggy to an aquarium made from a strange, somewhat clear material. By time he was 18 he didn’t have the grades for even a mid-tier school, so he went to work as a tradesmen. The government had sponsored a four year program with twelve different apprenticeships, a new one every three months. Electrical. Roofing. Plumbing. Framing. Welding. Etc.

Each new assignment went the same. After six weeks learning a new trade he could handle projects that those with years of experience would be assigned. Most of his apprenticeships ended early after he was kicked off the job site for goofing around, or after his project was done early. On his 21st birthday he finished his last project, a year early, and rode his motorcycle to the army barracks to sign up for elite training.

Yuma, Arizona — August 30th, 4533

Local Birth Rate: 0.0

A rocket streaked through the sky, descending through the clouds as its engine fired to slow the payload to a soft landing on the arid desert floor. Dust settled while the rocket cooled and exhaust expelled out the side vents. After a few minutes a lizard poked his head up to see what the commotion was all about. The bottom bay opened and a rover was lowered to the ground, the cable detached and hauled back inside the rocket.

The rover slowly booted up, various lights turning on and off and a solar array extending out the back to fold open. As the rover began to move, the lizard followed him, down the path towards a decrepit concrete slab. The rover opened again, this time a sensor was extended towards the slab to exam it. Various tests were done, the rover not finding what it was looking for and began to move around the area, further scanning. The sensor was put away and replaced with a digging tool, the rover not finding what it was looking for above ground, now looking underground. After several hours the rover gave up and headed back to the rocket, greeted by a dozen more rovers that had been lowered from the rocket.

Shanghai, China — July 14th, 2069

Local Birth Rate: 1.6

Let’s just say Fan had doubts. Liu had been relentless the last few months, constantly on the phone, calling anyone and everyone they knew in fertility science, even though Fan was the doctor in the relationship. She had turned him onto a few biotech investments, which went well as most of his investments did, but she was the expert when it came to science, especially neuroscience, where she led the research group at Shenzhen University.

Liu had said Dr. Zhe was “the best in all of China” so many times she had to ask him to stop. They had sent over the samples of his sperm and her eggs and flown up to Shanghai for a much needed trip away, even though the doctor said it would be fine to do a remote stream or see a doctor at his local office in Shenzhen.

As they walked in Dr. Zhe was cordial, but a bit curt, especially given the gravity of the situation.

“Again, you really didn’t need to come here, this easily could have been done on a stream,” he said.

“Not at all. We’ve had a tough year and it was good to have a reason to get out of town,” Liu said.

“Ok, listen. I know why you’re here, I do dozens of these meetings every week, so I’m just going to dive in. I have some good news, some bad news, and some more potentially good news.”

Fan and Liu looked at each other, hesitant, and nodded together.

“Your eggs are fine and your sperm is fine, or at least as much as compared to the general population, which is having its own issues. Unfortunately though”, he paused, looking at the wall behind them, “and I really shouldn’t be the person telling you this, this is not what I do,” he paused again and sighed, “…you have cancer. Specifically ovarian cancer. This may or may not be a factor in your miscarriages, we don’t know. It’s early and we, well, not me, but a colleague, believes it is treatable. I am not a…”

“O my god…” Fan gasped, interrupting him. Liu put his head in his hands, then began to stand as if it was time to go.

Fan held Liu’s leg, encouraging him to sit back down. “You said you had potentially good news though?” Fan asked.

“Well, yes, but you’ll need to sign this form…” Dr Zhe said as he slid over a document along with a pen.

Liu took one look at it and immediately responded, “Listen, I see over a hundred companies a year. I can’t sign an NDA.”

“Read further... This is not an NDA.”

Under the first packet was another form, both Liu and Fan began reading through the fifteen page document while Dr. Zhe returned to his computer. It was vague in many areas that Fan wanted specifics, but it offered some hope. This wasn’t an NDA, but a contract. For more than the cost of their house, of which more than 50% would be due up front, they could offer a “donation” to the government and be part of a trial related to fertility. They didn’t know what it would entail, only that it would not take place here or Shenzhen.

“What is this?” Fan asked.

“How much do you want to have a baby? After your antivirals are done you won’t have cancer, but you also won’t be able to conceive either. This gives you a chance.” Dr. Zhe answered as calmly and unemotionally as he had been since the moment they walked into his office.

“This is bullshit, Fan we need to take care of you, not some crazy fertility experiment!” Liu exclaimed, throwing the papers back on the desk.

“How much time do we have to decide?” Fan said as they both got up to leave, taking her packet of papers with her.

“Trials start in two weeks, your cancer therapy begins tomorrow when you get back to Shenzhen,” Dr. Zhe replied, not bothering to get out of his seat, or look up, already back to his computer.

Ibadan, Nigeria — July 15th, 2071

Local Birth Rate: 2.9

For the last two years Kemi worried about her brother every day, but lately she was focused on the troubles of her training models. No matter what data set she threw at it, the machine learning models kept failing. This wasn’t about research and getting published anymore. Lives were on the line and she had one goal: increase food yields. She reported to the Minister of Agriculture who expected results, not publications in journals. The yields for both yams and cassava were both down last year for the first time in a century. A minor decline, but the Minister noticed and he pulled every political string he had to get the top minds in the country looking at this problem. Kemi was in a group of ten researchers, ranging in background from biology, molecular science, and even a farmer without any formal education with some crazy ideas.

They were each assigned a different area to focus on including increasing crop size and resistance to blight. Kemi was assigned the germination process from seed to initial sprout. Last year a strange trend of seeds weren’t sprouting at all. She would take a sample set of distributed seeds and satellite imagery and notice what percent sprouted, and then used that as a gold data set to train her models. The hope was to use machine learning to predict which would and would not sprout so that other scientists could see trends and figure out why. Just one problem though: it didn’t work. The nation’s most promising computer scientist couldn’t it figure out. She couldn’t sleep and was obsessed. She got so sick of failing over and over again she took matters into her own hands.

Instead of relying on huge crop plots and historical information for her training data she commandeered one of the nation’s largest greens houses in the country to control every factor related to germination: soil, light levels, heat, moisture, etc. Results were better, but still not perfect. Since her sample size was now tiny she would have to wait weeks for each result instead of instant calculations based on large historical datasets. She then closed the last variable: the air. The greenhouse became a clean room with purified and fortified air and within two training sets the models were now at statistical significance and past 95% confidence. Mostly because there were almost no errors. At all. Sprouts were now back to the normal rates.

Just as she was beginning her big presentation of her findings to the Minister she got a call from Tunde, the first time she had heard from him in two years. The biggest presentation of her young career and without hesitation she excused herself and walked out.

Shenzhen, China — July 15th, 2069

Local Birth Rate: 1.8

As Fan and Liu walked into the chemo clinic they still hadn’t decided on what to do next. They knew Fan needed to begin her antivirals as soon as possible, and that when she did, she would lose her ability to have children. What they were still debating was whether they could trust Dr. Zhe, without knowing anything about his top secret program.

“He seems like a quack”, Liu said.

“What happened to ‘he’s the best in all of China?’ Not one, but two of your closest advisors recommended him, including someone who knows the Minister of Health personally. You don’t get that close to the top if you’re a fraud. At least not usually,” Fan replied.

Liu was surprised how calm Fan had been since they got her cancer diagnosis. She had mourned the latest miscarriage, but this awful development in life, one of many lately, was different. She was calm and intentful about everything she was doing.

For Liu, he wanted this to be a problem he could fix, but felt like he didn’t have good data to make the “right” decision. Should they delay surgery and freeze her eggs? Try IVF or send her eggs and his sperm to Dr. Zhe right away?

The Oncologist gave a light knock, entered the room and sat down next to them, ready to talk them through the next 24 hours of treatment. Then, just as quickly as it had started, Fan stood up and walked out.

Liu raced after her down the hall. “Where are you going? Fan!” Liu exclaimed.

“I know what we’re going to do. I don’t know how I know, but I know. Whatever Dr. Zhe is working on it’s our only way to the life we want to live. I don’t care what the odds are or whatever analysis you need to make the highest probability choice. I care about taking the risk needed to have the family we always dreamed of. I know he said he only needed one set of eggs from me and then I could start my antivirals, but I’m going to wait and give him has many samples as he needs.”

“Woah, Fan, come here, sit down,” Liu finally caught up to her and attempted to block her way down the hallway between a gurney and an empty bench.

Fan looked at Liu with that face she makes when she’s made up her mind. He knew it wasn’t worth discussing. “Fan…please…” Liu said.

“If you want to help, call in a favor or two to get us to the top of that list.” Fan replied, squeezing past him down the hall.

Ibadan, Nigeria — July 15th, 2071

Local Birth Rate: 2.9

“Tunde? Is that you?” Kemi said.

“It is, hello Kemi.” Tunde replied.

Kemi had heard four words from her brother and she could tell he had changed. He was calmer and….different, in some other way, but she couldn’t place it.

“Where are you? Are you ok?” Kemi asked.

“I can’t say, but I can tell you I’m on my way home. I heard you’re doing some secret project with the Minister and..”

Kemi interrupted him, “How did you know that? That’s classified informat…” Tunde interrupted back.

“Kemi, please, let me talk. I know I have been gone for over two years, I am sorry to have left you and the family like that. I will explain what I can when I get back to Lagos. I know you’re in Ibadan, I have arranged for a jet to bring you home for the weekend and you’ll be back on Monday morning so I can see you before you head to China.”

“What do you mean? I’m not going home, I am in the middle of my biggest presentation of my life, standing outside the office of the Minister as we speak. Then I am presenting at the Global Technology Forum in Beijing on Monday and need to be on a flight with the cabinet Sunday night. I miss you and want to see you, but I can’t come home right now.”

“I thought that flight was on Monday morning…I apologize, I made a mistake. I will see you when you are back then?” Tunde responded. Kemi was taken aback by how he seemed to know everything and yet was so calm, so monotone.

“It was supposed to be, but it got moved up a day so that we could attend the opening dinner. You sound…different, Tunde. Everything ok?”

“Yes. We can talk next week, good bye.”

“Tunde! Wait! …hello? hello?!” Kemi said, unsure if he had already hung up.

“Yes? I am still here,” Tunde said after a moment of silence.

“Why don’t you come to China with me! We can catch up on the plane and you can see what I have been working on.”

“Are you sure? I don’t want to be a burden.”

“Tunde, stop. You know I would love to have you. Sunday night. 10pm, don’t be late!” Kemi said, almost giddy.

“I will not be late. I need to see Mom and Dad first. Don’t worry, I can get the details of your flight and will make sure I am on it. I love you Kemi, see you soon.” Tunde hung up, not waiting for a reply.

Secret Location, Chengdu, China — July 17th, 2069

Local Birth Rate: 4.1

When Liu and Fan got off their flight they were not expecting a military escort. They knew this was a top secret project, and this is China after all, but nothing like this. There were four other couples who were all ushered into large black SUVs straight from the tarmac. Fan started to ask about her bags, but noticed they were being taken off already and put in a van at the back of their entourage.

“What have we got ourselves into, Fan…” Liu whispered as they began to pull away.

The officials made it clear from the time they got on the private jet there was to be no interaction with anyone on board. Total silence. When they arrived each couple were each put into their own SUV and after a 5 hour drive past the hilly town of Aba they arrived at an upscale hotel and spa, seemingly in the middle of nowhere. The accommodations were quite nice, but fairly sterile. Fan noticed a few doctors in the lounge that she had read about, outside of her area of expertise, but famous Chinese research scientists in their field of fertility.

As the other couples were escorted to their rooms Dr. Zhe walked into the reception and instructed the porters to bring Fan and Liu’s luggage to their room.

“How was the drive? The mountains are beautiful this time of year.” Dr Zhe asked.

“It was fine. I hope you don’t mind if we get this started, as you know I am on a bit of a time crunch,” Fan responded.

“Of course, you two were never much for small talk, nor am I to be honest. Come, come.” Dr. Zhe said as he walked them through a large double door and into one of the largest medical facilities Fan had seen. The waiting room was immaculate. The hotel seemed to open into a cave of sorts, built into the mountainside with tunnels and walls throughout. Every door had a military guard with an automatic rifle and who knows what else. Dr. Zhe swiped his badge and passed personal checkpoints at every door they passed through.

“The hotel reception is Area 1, the waiting room is Area 2 and is not be talked about.” He paused for a second and flashed a very serious look to make sure they both understood.

“Beyond the security staff in this waiting room is Area 3. Below you are eight floors, each their own area of speciality. This facility was started twenty years ago for research on fertility. After China’s population stabilized at 1.5bn we saw a declining trend over the next 200 years. We waited too long to remove the one child policy and never quite recovered as the economy improved beyond our wildest dreams.”

“We kept the infertility issues out of the press as best we could, but the reality is much worse than what the public is told. Those in urban environments are showing signs of birth rates below 1.0 and China’s future depends on the next generation.”

“Put simply, this facility and my mission is to understand and come up with solutions for China’s greatest crisis of the last 2000 years.”

They stepped into an elevator the size of a truck and rode it down five stories. As the elevator opened, security guards blocked their exit and checked Dr. Zhe’s clearance, asking about Liu and Fan, before letting them pass after a series of secret codes. They walked into a large research facility with dozens of scientists working at different kinds of stations. Dr. Zhe walked them into his office.

“Please, take a seat. Tea?” Dr. Zhe began to pour tea prepared for their arrival, without waiting for a reply.

“You see, over a hundred years ago, humanity perfected the ability to choose when to not have kids. Of course, condoms go back centuries, and the vasectomy in the early 20th century, but the pill was a true revolution. Women especially could now control their own lives. But what we lost was the ability to choose with greater certainty when to have kids, not just when not to. We simply want to bring that certainty back.”

“You’ll excuse all the security, paperwork and logistics up until now for what I am about to show you…” Dr. Zhe said as he opened a freezer door and took out a large petri dish.

“We spent the first decade monitoring tens of thousands of pregnant women, from all over China and beyond. We learned some, but not enough to make any real progress and the reality is, we still don’t know why miscarriages happen. We know it is related to cell division errors when certain chromosomes aren’t copied correctly, usually from a hormonal imbalance. We needed a better way to monitor what was happening inside of the mother’s womb, so we created this.”

Dr. Zhe set the dish on the table, “This is the first sample ever made that was able to maintain life past 21 days. As you can imagine, this is not legal. The initial UK laws from over a hundred years ago are still international law. After 14 days twins can no longer form, so they believed that an individual person had started to develop, which is a distinction beyond this conversation. There are thousands of ways an individual develops and we believe this is fairly arbitrary.”

Dr. Zhe paused for a second to gauge their reaction.

“Ok…so you’re doing later stage IVF?” Fan wondered out loud.

“Not exactly…” Dr. Zhe replied as he spun his chair to another freezer behind his desk, putting his first sample back and grabbing much larger sample.

“That dish was made 9 years ago. It was a major scientific achievement and took a decade of research, but was a small step in the grander vision.” Dr. Zhe took out a large, plastic cube, the size of a large watermelon.

“From everything we know and data we can capture, this embryo was able to be healthy until almost 10 weeks.” Dr. Zhe only briefly showed them before putting the cube back in the freezer.

“We approached the problem from two sides.” Dr. Zhe held his hands out wide, then indicating his left hand. “On one side we extended the life of fertilized embryos, as you can see, now to 10 weeks.” Dr. Zhe then drew their attention to his right hand. “At the same time, we researched at-risk mothers who had premature births in the past or were likely to be premature from various factors. I want to be very clear on this, and our standards are of the highest order, we never induced premature births unnaturally.”

“Uh huh…” Liu whispered under his breath not so quietly.

Dr. Zhe gave Liu a look of frustration, but moved on, moving his hands closer together.

“The percent of babies born before 37 weeks has risen for over two decades. In 2020 premature babies accounted for about 18% of all deliveries. The chance of survival at 25 weeks was 72%, at 24 weeks 55%, 23 weeks 26%, and 22 weeks was only about 6%.”

“Today premature babies account for the the majority of births. Although today outcomes from each stage of development are better than they were decades ago, the total number of safe, healthy deliveries continues to decline as more babies are born far too early.”

“Two years ago we were able to safely deliver a baby at 18 weeks in a device we call the premi-pod. It’s less than 10% successful but we’re pushing the boundaries here and learning more in a week than we learned in a year. It is really exciting stuff, let me show you the labs.” Dr. Zhe said as he stood up and finished his tea.

Liu was becoming agitated. “I’m sorry, I need to jump in here. Dr. Zhe your facility is impressive, and despite being unethical and certainly illegal, I understand your goals. That said...why are we here?”

“Because we want you two to be our first family to deliver a healthy baby completely outside of the mother’s womb and be the public persona of our new device we are calling xPod. You will be the most famous couple in the world.”

Yuma, Arizona — October 1st, 4533

Local Birth Rate: 0.0

To the lizard, it seemed slow going and completely disinteresting. We under appreciate what a single day’s progress can amount to when part of a well designed system. Although each rover seemed to look the same, each had slightly different tasks. Two were scout rovers searching for new materials to bring to another that seemed to sort them, examine them and then ground them to the finest of sands. Another was arranging more and more solar panels, ever increasing the size of the array. All of them easily able to swap for another rover’s task at any moment.

The majority were attaching themselves together in an assembly line of sorts, producing some kind of material from the various sands the first one was discovering. Most material was discarded but the complexity was impressive. The final material was then given to a rover that could use a kind of 3D printer to create screws and basic parts. When a rover would break down another would drive over, print the part needed and fix it on the spot. The dozen rovers worked 24 hours a day, every day for weeks.

Global Technology Forum, Beijing, China — July 19th, 2071

Local Birth Rate: 1.5

The flight was disappointing. Kemi was increasingly worried about Tunde. She loved him, but he seemed…off. Of course growing up he was always the serious one, but now he was less playful than ever and didn’t seem to question everything as much as he did growing up. He still was curious, no one could take that out of him, but instead of being impulsive he had a certain maturity about him. He had also put on fifty pounds of pure muscle and was no longer the young boy she had grown up with.

She had hoped they would catch up during the long flight. Instead, Tunde answered a few of her questions, kindly declined most of them and apparently couldn’t talk much about what he did for the last two years. He was in a special forces division while working on an engineering degree “on the side”. He had a few questions for her about her research, nothing she hadn’t published already, but he mostly stared out the window. He also didn’t seem to sleep much.

When they landed they were greeted by a Chinese delegation from the conference and brought into a large passenger van with 12 other scientists and researchers. After they checked into the hotel they headed to their room to get ready for the conference opening dinner in the banquet hall. Kemi does not have a lot of opportunities for formal attire and had been shopping for weeks, but Tunde had brought her a surprise: a beautiful hand made Buba dress from her mother. She loved it and twirled in the elevator on their way down down to the dinner. Tunde smiled at her joy.

As the elevator opened they heard Amadi, the Nigerian diplomat to China, from across the lobby. “Welcome welcome! Babatunde AND Adekemi, together. What a treat!” Amadi’s boisterous laugh was so loud that guests upstairs could have heard him.

“What is he doing here?” Tunde whispered to Kemi.

“I don’t know, I hope not to watch me tomorrow!” Kemi’s joy vanished and her palms became sweaty, already nervous about her presentation tomorrow.

“Please, come, join me at my table.” Amadi said, ushering them into the banquet hall.

Amadi presented a large, round, sixteen person table, beautifully decorated with white linen and flowers. Kemi recognized a few faces around the room, but wasn’t sure from where. Amadi found their seats on the far side of the table sitting next to China’s Minister of Health.

“At least we’re sitting together.” Kemi nudged Tunde to take the seat closer to Amadi, swapping seats with him. There was a clinking of glasses and the music turned down as someone took the stage. He gave a speech about global unity and the sharing of ideas, encouraging everyone to be honest and open while at the conference. As they toasted and introduced themselves to their table mates a couple walked in occupying the last two open seats at the table next to them.

“Hello, I’m Adekemi, but most people just call me Kemi,” she said, extending her hand.

“Hello, my name is Liu and this is my wife Fan.” Liu said, shaking Kemi’s hand and taking the seat next to Kemi.

Kemi looked over and Tunde was doing his best to contain Amadi’s presence, let alone volume. Kemi welcomed the idea of less stress from dealing with the diplomat and instead hoped for an easy conversation with these new strangers.

“So, first time to Global Tech?” Kemi asked.

“No, but particularly excited about this year.” Liu responded.

“O? Why is that?” Kemi responded.

“Been a few years since I was able to attend, been busy. Mostly excited about your presentation about germination tomorrow.” Liu said, never one to beat around the bush.

“I’m surprised you know about it, not exactly the keynote.” Kemi responded, reaching under the table to grab Tunde’s leg. Tunde checked in on their conversation and tried to listen to both conversations at the same time.

“I’m sorry, sometimes my husband can be a bit direct. We are great admirers of the work you are doing and we came to see your speech tomorrow among many others. Would you give us sneak peak at some of your research?” Fan chimed in, trying to cool the mood. Kemi was on edge and feeling overwhelmed.

“Um, I’m not sure if I am supposed to do that. I’m on pretty strict orders from the Minister about what I can and can’t talk about and he said not to allow questions after my talk.” Kemi responded as she slouched in her chair.

“Of course. I didn't mean to put you in a difficult position, only meant to express our respect for the work you have done. Is this your brother Babtunde we have heard so much about?” Liu asked.

This was not the easy conversation she was hoping for. Kemi put her hand on Tunde’s arm and asked if she could introduce him, attempting to do the impossible by interrupting Amadi. Tunde had heard his name and excused himself, standing to greet his new guests.

“How is it you know of my brother?” Kemi asked.

“Adekemi, you’re a featured speaker at one of the most important summits in the entire world. Part of my job as an investor is to seek out rising stars, understand where they came from, what they hope to do with their life. Hopefully we can find ways our firm can help you get there. Babatunde, maybe you might be up on that stage next year?”

Kemi glanced at Tunde, clearly missing something everyone else at that table already knew.

“I don’t know about that, Kemi is the smart one…” Tunde replied, trying to deflect the attention back on his sister.

Fan turned the conversation back to Amadi who jumped at the chance to involve China’s Minister of Health and some of the work their countries were doing together. They spoke about this conference being an opportunity to show the the world their ability to unite Asia and Africa. As dinner arrived Kemi focused on her food and kept quiet. As desert was offered she excused herself, citing the big day she had tomorrow.

“Great to meet you, we’ll see you tomorrow. Don’t stress, you’re going to do great.” Liu said, standing while shaking her hand as she left. Tunde got up to follow her.

Tunde and Kemi were silent as they walked to the elevator and headed to the room. They had adjoining rooms and entered via Kemi’s door, but once Tunde walked into his suite, Kemi closed the door between them. “Good night Tunde, I’m tired, let’s chat tomorrow.”

Tunde, as stoic as ever lately, replied, “Good night, Kemi. Thank you for inviting me on your trip, I promise not to be a distraction. Good luck tomorrow.”

Kemi threw herself on the bed, exhausted, feeling like her world was spinning out of control.

Global Technology Forum, Beijing, China — July 20th, 2071

Kemi woke in a cold sweat still, wearing her dress and felt like she had to get out of her room. She dressed to go to the gym, but noticed that it was 4am, local time, and the light was on in Tunde’s room. Either he was still up or had already awoken. Morning light was just entering her room and she decided to go for a run. She asked the concierge for a recommendation for where to watch the sunrise and followed their directions to a hill a few miles away. She ran gracefully, intentionally, and summited the small hill easily. As she caught her breath and enjoyed the view of the metropolis she thought of Tunde. Why was it that everyone seemed to be so interested in him when she was the one here presenting? She let it leave her mind on the run back.

After a cold shower she ran through her presentation a few times and headed to the green room for sound check. She went through a dry run and made two mistakes, citing completely wrong numbers. She left more nervous than she had been before and cried in the green room. Then there was a knock at the door. She opened the door to see Tunde holding Chin Chin, a Nigerian snack, and Kemi’s favorite. “Another gift from Mom…” he said.

She welcomed him in and Tunde paced around the room unplugging everything from the wall, using a scanner of sorts throughout the room and taking the battery out of Kemi’s phone. They then sat together, Kemi reaching for the Chin Chin.

“I read that eating comforting food can prevent stage fright,” Tunde said giving Kemi the bowl.

“Thanks, I appreciate it. I’m not sure I can go out there.” Kemi said, wiping away the mascara that had run down her cheeks.

“Listen, I need to tell you a few things. We haven’t had a lot of time in private, and I couldn’t answer most of your questions in public, on the plane or on the phone.”

“You need to know that although I am so grateful for where I am and who I am now, it hasn’t been easy for me. When I left that job site I was convinced this world wasn’t for me. I couldn’t see a future where I would be challenged and interested in what I would be doing. I saw a long path of unhappiness and restlessness. When I got on my motorcycle and rode away from that last job site I planned on riding as long and fast as I possibly could without ever getting off. I rode past the barracks and then after a few hours decided this was it. I turned around and decided this works or I’m done with life.”

Tunde took a deep breath, tears streaming down, and grabbed a handful of Chin Chin.

“They don’t typically take new recruits that arrive at the front gate, but they could see I was looking for a fresh start. I started in basic training and passed the elite test in 3 months. My first mission was South East Asia, I won’t bore you with the details but they throw new recruits like us into the thick of it and it didn’t phase me. I wouldn’t say I wanted to die, but I wouldn’t have cared much if I did. I was just apathetic about everything, well, except working out. I watched these morons gloat about their muscles so I fixed that real quick.” Tunde said as he flexed his biceps, showing Kemi one of his first true smiles since he’d been back.

“I got to see some some crazy shit all over the world. Chile one week, Russia the next. I’d get deployed to mining facilities, supply chains and factories. Oh man, this one factory in Ukraine was crazy. You know how much I couldn’t give a shit about technology, but I was seeing where the materials were coming from that everything the world is building relies on. I couldn’t stop asking why. Why are we putting people in these conditions to mine this shit? People are dying and we’re fucking up this planet to get the raw materials for everything we use and yet people have no idea where it comes from. Why this material? What is it used for? Why can’t we do it another way?”

Tunde went to grab another handful of Chin Chin but the bowl was already empty.

“Sorry, that was good.” Kemi said, realizing she didn’t offer to share more before finishing the bowl.

Tunde smiled again and opened his jacket pocket revealing another bag.

“Dad said you’d want a second bag, Mom said one would be enough.” Tunde said as he opened the second bag and poured it into the bowl.

“I kept my head down for a year focused only on eating, sleeping, working out, being on mission or studying materials science. Did you know you can create your own minerals virtually now? My CO was supportive and gave me just about every resource I wanted, including a secure connection on our flights. I passed the online introductory material science classes pretty easily and decided I needed to do this full time. For the last six months I have been finishing my final tours with my team while coming up with some new filaments, none have showed much application, but for the first time I feel like I have something I want to do with my life.”

“That’s cool Tunde…” Kemi paused, realizing she had a few minutes until she was to be on stage. “I knew you were unsettled but I didn’t know you were that unhappy.”

“I know, I wish I had talked to you, but you were always so busy, ya know, being the future of Africa and all.” Tunde looked down at the carpet, unable to look at Kemi.

Kemi reached out to Tunde and held him. “I love you, thank you for sharing this with me. Let’s go home and figure out some ways to work together! How much fun would that be?”

“I’d love that. I actually kind of already told Mom and Dad that.” Tunde said. “Before you go out there and impress the whole world I wanted to let you know that I have been thinking about you every day for the last two years and that I am sorry for leaving my little sister all alone. I love you.”

“TWO MINUTES!” a voice over the intercom said.

“Thank you Tunde, I love you too.”

Kemi left the green room and was on stage just in time. Tunde watched from backstage, looking across the stage and seeing Liu and Fan. “Who are these people?” he wondered.

Global Technology Forum, Beijing, China — July 21st, 2071

Local Birth Rate: 1.5

Tunde grabbed their bags and was ready to head down to the lobby to check out when the phone rang.

“Hello, I have two guests who are requesting to come to your room. Are you comfortable with me sharing your room number?” the receptionist said.

“Let me guess, their names are Liu and Fan?” Tunde said.

Kemi poked her head out from the bathroom, “Again? Noooo,” Kemi whispered why motioning to say no with her hands.

“That’s fine, but please let them know we have to leave in the next ten minutes.” Tunde said as he hung up.

“Tunde! Ugh, they tried to corner me after my talk yesterday and you know how much I don’t want to be pitched right now. Can’t we just go home?”

“I know I know, let’s hear them out, 10 minutes tops.”

Suddenly there was a knock on the door, they must have already known which room was theirs. Tunde opened the door.

“Hello again!” Fan said, offering a bowl of something vaguely resembling Chin Chin. “I know it won’t be as good as your Mom’s but we went to great lengths to find the best Chin Chin in all of Beijing. I heard this helped you do so well yesterday. Congrats, you’re the talk of the forum! May we come in?”

“Ok, but listen, we have to leave in 10 minutes.” Tunde said, while out of view from the door Kemi rolled her eyes and disappeared to the bathroom leaving the door open behind her to listen in.

The three of them sat in silence, waiting for the other to speak first, while Kemi hid in the bathroom. Eventually Liu broke the silence, “Heading out already? The keynote today should be interesting.”

“Uh huh, I’m sure you’re here for the keynote.” Tunde said, slightly dismissive.

Kemi came out of the bathroom, tired of waiting.

“OK, fine, let’s hear it. Why are you here? We have a flight to catch.”

“Hello Kemi, fantastic job yesterday. Would you like to take a seat? We’d like to talk to you about an opportunity.” Liu said.

“I’ll stand, thanks.” Kemi said.

“Ok, no problem.” Liu said.

“Are you familiar with either of us at this point? Do you know much about our background?” Fan said.

“No…I have been too busy to internet stalk random strangers…” Kemi said.

Tunde interjected, looking at Liu, “You began your career in Beijing as an Engineer for the military. After getting your MBA from Warton you headed back to China to invest in 3 of the top 10 companies of the last decade. Fan, a leader in the neuroscience space, had personal issues and you left your jobs two years ago. My contacts tell me you have been working with the government, possibly making people disappear, probably espionage related. You’re both wealthy enough not to work and have clean backgrounds, why? You could do anything you want.”

“I assure you, we are not here to make anyone disappear.” Liu said, slightly laughing.

“That was partially correct, Tunde. I commend your research. The personal issues you mentioned were two miscarriages. Yes, we are fortunate, but no amount of money was going to give us the child we dream of every day.” Fan said.

“I’m sorry for your loss.” Kemi said, sitting down.

“Thank you, Kemi. It was a hard time, but then on top of that, I was diagnosed with ovarian cancer and had to make the hardest decision of my life. Do I prioritize my health or risk my life for the future we both wanted as parents?” Fan took Liu’s hand as he grabbed hers back.

“I’m sorry if I was too forthright when we first met. I get excited about opportunities and what we’re going to discuss today is highly classified. We are not going to ask you sign anything because if you do talk about this, this won’t be up to the courts. This must stay between us, understand?”

Kemi and Tunde’s phone both began wildly buzzing and they put them on do not disturb.

“Then I’d rather not talk about it.” Tunde said, concerned where this was going.

“It’s ok, I want to know.” Kemi said.

“Tunde, you’re right. I have been successful, but it never made me feel fulfilled. Knowing only a little of your background, I’m pretty sure you can relate to that. I never had any siblings and as I got older I was enthralled by young children. Their play, sweetness, openness, just so many things.” Liu paused for a second, looking at Fan.

“For some reason when we started dating and planning our life together we just assumed the difficulties everyone around the world were experiencing wouldn’t happen to us. We were healthy, successful and had all the resources needed. We read the research and did everything we were supposed to do to have a healthy baby. The first miscarriage was expected, statistically at least, but the second one really changed me, changed both of us.” Liu continued…

“A week after we got Fan’s cancer diagnosis I walked into my venture firm and quit. I distributed my investments and earnings back to my investors and partners and left. I needed a break to focus on our family.”

“So what did you do?” Kemi jumped in, looking at Fan. “What did you decide?”

“I decided to delay my antivirals and try for a baby.” Fan said.

“IVF?” Kemi asked.

Kemi and Tunde’s phone began bussing again despite being on do not disturb.

“Not exactly. Now, this might seem controversial, but when you think about it, this has been the natural course of human science for decades. You see, we have been improving our ability to create life outside of the mother for over a hundred years. Back in 1889 a french doctor named Alexandre Lion created the first incubator. It was such a crazy idea that it was used as the main attraction of amusement parks with actual premature babies inside.

“Our goal is to take the next leap in human science and remove the womb from the process. For the last two years we have been working on bridging the gap between external fertilization and the care of premature babies. We are so very close Kemi and we believe your research is the missing piece.” Fan said, finishing her pitch.

“That’s illegal, you shouldn’t be telling us this. I am working with my government and I can’t know state secrets about another country!” Kemi was taken aback, standing up again. Here mind was racing, how did she get here? She just wanted to get home and focus on her work.

“I know what you’re thinking. You’re in the middle of the most promising work of your career. If there’s one thing that I have seen in my time working with some of the most inspiring minds in the world it’s that great work attracts great opportunities. I imagine you’re finding it hard to contemplate something like this, but know this is a once in a generation opportunity, in fact it is the biggest opportunity in the history of humanity. I’m betting my career on it.” Liu said.

“Just to be clear, what exactly are you proposing?” Tunde asked.

“We have set up a cover for both of you to take a vacation in rural China. Let us show you what we’re working on.” Liu said.

“I have research to finish. My country needs me and my minister will not be happy about you even approaching me.” Kemi replied.

“Feeding more people won’t be an issue in the future if we can’t reliably have more children. Please, do me a quick favor, and check your phones.”

Tunde and Kemi checked their phones and in the last few minutes since Liu and Fan walked in both of their phones had been flooded with messages. Kemi had won the most promising young talent award which included a vacation in China, and her Mom and Dad had messaged both of them to congratulate her. But there was more. A lot more. Kemi’s phone had messages from the Minister of Agriculture and Amadi congratulating her on taking part in their new agreement of a “Nigerian Future In China.” Tunde had a similar message from the Chief of the Defence Intelligence Agency thanking him for his service and granting him a discharge with the highest honors. Their social media mentions were off the charts.

Liu showed them his phone of all the news streams announcing a groundbreaking new deal granting Nigeria over one million work visas in China over the next ten years.

“What the…how did you…?” Tunde shook his head in belief.

“I understand your concerns. Please give us the chance to show you why we need to do this. This isn’t about your country or ours. We have a chance to change the course of humanity for the better and I believe this is the greatest opportunity anyone has ever had, ever.” Liu gave his best closing argument.

Kemi wasn’t convinced this was a good idea and she felt the weight of two of the largest economies in the world bearing down on her. She stood up, grabbed her bag, unsure what to do. “I’m not going anywhere alone Tunde…”

Military Airbase, Outside Chengdu, China — July 22nd, 2071

Kemi, Tunde, Fan and Liu flew together to a brand new military airbase outside Chengdu. There was an awkward silence between the four of them during the drive to the airport in Beijing. Kemi feeling like she was leaving behind unfinished work and Tunde was more guarded than ever. Liu was excited to have Kemi on the team and felt like he accomplished his mission. Fan though could tell Kemi still had a long way to go before she’d be able to hit the ground running in the lab.

As they got off the flight, Fan asked Kemi, “Would you like to ride with me?”

Kemi glanced at Tunde, he nodded and got into the second SUV with Liu, leaving Kemi to join Fan.

“I imagine you must have so many questions and figured I we could spend the next few hours chatting about the project and where Dr. Zhe and I were hoping you could help,” Fan said.

“Ok, I don’t know much about fertility and only the basics about biology…”

“That’s ok, you’re smart, you’ll get there. Let’s start at the beginning,” Fan said.

Kemi’s shoulders relaxed, she opened her handbag and took out her laptop to take notes. She turned slightly towards Fan, closed her eyes and took a deep breath. “Ok, I’m ready, let’s do this.”

“Ok, here we go.” Fan took out a tablet and brought up some diagrams, clearly having gone through this routine before. She paused, drank some water, and prepared for the long description ahead.

“Let’s take a step back and remember our goal: To fertilize an egg and deliver a baby, completely outside of the womb. Humans have been able to fertilize an egg via IVF for over a hundred years, but that will only get you so far. We need to create what’s called a blastocyst, the early stages of the embryo, and find it a home where it can grow and develop into a fetus. The blastocyst needs a conduit to deliver nutrients, expel waste, and perform what’s called a gas exchange, basically oxygen in, CO2 out.”

“It all starts with the fertilization of an egg. We extract an egg and fertilize in a process similar to IVF. Instead of transferring a few days old embryo from a petri dish into a women’s uterus and hope it implants, we allow the fertilization to grow into a blastocyst and then transfer it to a device we call the xPod, where the walls of the device mimic that of a mother’s uterus. This is going to get a bit technical, so please interrupt me when I get too far into medical jargon.”

Fan paused as Kemi was typing furiously. Fan glanced over and saw not only was Kemi taking down what Fan was saying but mixing in questions to ask later as we she typed. Kemi looked up, curious and ready for more.

“Typically you’d have an egg leave an ovary, travel down the fallopian tubes, get fertilized, develop into a blastocyst and then connect to the endometrium, which is the wall of the uterus. There’s a lot going on here, first the fertilized egg wants to make sure it found a safe home, and at the same time the mother’s body wants to make sure it found a healthy blastocyst. So, if the blastocyst differs genetically too much from the mother, the connection between them will be rejected, the blastocyst will not be able to implant and be discarded.”

“We had to develop an artificial substance that could communicate with the blastocyst. Before Liu and I joined, Dr. Zhe had some initial success using a uterus from animals. Last year we figured out how to take a small tissue sample from the mother’s uterus and artificially grow the endometrium. Instead of the typical walls an egg would fall through in a uterus, we created the xPod which is a spherical device the size of a bowling ball filled with amniotic fluid that we drop the blastocyst into.”

“So far so good?” Fan paused, taking a drink of water.

“Uh huh…one sec…” Kemi replied, not looking up from her laptop, typing away.

“This was one of Dr. Zhe’s major breakthroughs: understanding exactly which immunosuppressive agents the embryo was looking for, namely Prostaglandin E2, Interleukin 1-alpha, and Interleukin 6. The women’s body would then begin to send out Human Chorionic Gonadotropin (you’ve probably heard it as hCG), also another vital immunosuppressive, but also needed to let the body know the mother is pregnant and prevent future menstruation cycles.” Fan paused again while Kemi kept typing away.

“So after the right mix of chemicals and bio signatures, the embryo implanted into this, what is it called?” Kemi said.

“xPod, correct. That was just the beginning, each step from this stage until a healthy baby gets exponentially harder. After the embryo implants there is a yolk-sac that begins to form two critical structures: the placenta and the umbilical cord.” Fan leaned closer, sensing Kemi’s curiosity growing.

“Wait, I thought the placenta was how the mother communicated and fed the fetus via the umbilical cord. The placenta comes from the yolk sac that the embryo grows?” Kemi replied.

“Kind of…the placenta is actually two parts, the Chorion frondosum, which develops from the blastocyst, and then the Decidua basalis, which develops from the mother’s endometrium.”

“We looked at this from both sides of the timeline, attempting to extend the life of implanted embryos while also finding ways to increase the likelihood of healthy premature deliveries earlier and earlier. We tried all sorts of ways to extend the life of premature babies by attaching their umbilical cord to systems outside of the womb. Instead, we learned that it’s all about letting the embryo do what it wants to do. The yolk sac forms, becomes the umbilical cord, which connects to the outer layer of the blastocyst, which then becomes the early stages of the placenta. For over a decade the team tried to improve the outcomes for premature babies by recreating the experience outside the womb, but the key component is the placenta, which you simply can’t transfer. The team is now solely focused on creating an environment where a placenta can grow and thrive on its own, outside the womb, and then letting nature run its course as naturally as possible.”

“So you’re creating an artificial placenta?”

“Not exactly, think of it more like hydroponic plants. Those plants are not grown in their typical soil, but yet, they are still given everything they need to flourish. When you go to a grocery store, is it noted as being hydroponic kale vs soil kale? If we can give the placenta everything it needs, we’ll be able to grow a baby to term.” Fan paused, while Kemi continued to type furiously.

After a few minutes Kemi paused, looked out the window and then said, “Wow, you make it sound…possible. So where are you now in the process?”

“It’s all about the hormones. We can now reliably implant an embryo in an xPod. Since the fetus is growing in the xPod we have direct access to all the data we need. We can monitor and study ever aspect of the fetus as it develops in real time; heart rate, temperature, hormonal levels, everything. The main conduit to the baby is the umbilical cord, which is three things: an artery to bring blood in, a vein to take blood out and something called ‘Wharton’s Jelly’, which is basically a gelatinous substance that fills the cord. Don’t get me started why we still call it that.”

“We take samples every second as blood flows in and out to the placenta, while keeping the xPod supplied with everything it needs using blood and hormones supplied from the mother. In the future we have some ideas on how to artificially engineer those as well, but first we need to get this to actually work.” Fan looked out the window, marveling how far they had come in two years.

“The problem is…we’re stuck. We can get an embryo to about five weeks inside the xPod, and even have an active heart beat, but between five and ten weeks, it all goes haywire. The brain doesn’t develop properly, the lungs aren’t expanding to form air sacs and genetic abnormalities increase exponentially.” Fan sounded frustrated by their latest stall in development.

“There are over 20,000 protein coding genes expressed in human cells and 70% of these genes are expressed in a normal mature placenta. We specifically track a few hundred that are typical at this stage, lately looking at GATA3, a transcription factor, which controls how information is shared at the DNA level and whether that gene should or should not be expressed. This and other transcription factors are the air traffic controllers of cell division and, for our uses, cell growth. Without the right mix of hormones and genes firing, no life can form.”

“You mentioned I should tell you when I’m getting a little lost in jargon…” Kemi looked up from her laptop, unsure what to even type.

“Ah, thank you. We have an embryo growing but need to learn what it needs to reach the end of the first trimester. From there we believe we can foster growth until 40 weeks.”

“Hrm…” Kemi said, looking at the ceiling of the car, then out the window. Another long pause, Fan let Kemi think as the silence extended several minutes.

“So there’s two different set of analysis to do…” Kemi said, trying to frame the problems ahead. Looking over her notes and writing down some assumptions.

“First, the xPod’s role in getting nutrients to the embryo, taking waste out, performing the..” Kemi glanced through here notes, “the, gas exchange, all of which is highly susceptible to hormone regulation and probably disease too.”

Kemi continued, “And secondly, the DNA of the embryo is based on two inputs: the father’s DNA and the mother’s DNA. Am I right to assume this is why the hormones need to be so personalized and, also, where genetic abnormalities occur? I imagine some of these embryos won’t grow no matter how perfect the xPod is.”

“Correct, but we can’t know which is which or why.”

“I’m assuming the reason you wanted me is because you see similarities with how I got the plants to sprout back home. This is exponentially harder though, I had historical models that I could use that dated back over 50 years and the DNA structures of a simple plant. Data about which seeds were planted and whether they grew or not. Billions of samples! How many xPods have failed so far, dozens?”

Fan smirked, “Kemi, this is China. Trust me, large enough datasets for your ML models will not be a problem…”

Secret Location, Outside Chengdu, China — February 4th, 2076

Kemi had been at the lab since 4am after a restless night tossing and turning. Was it ready? Is this it? What could she do now?

When Kemi arrived five years ago she was awestruck by the facility, clearly built with no expense spared. Anything she asked for she received immediately. Nothing was even questioned, let alone denied. Access to computing resources, more personnel or various data samples. This was very different than her time back in Nigeria. No more forms, no more finance approvals. She identified two goals for her first year. First, understanding the the conduit to the embryo with better data collection and, secondly, perfecting the analysis of that data to accurately predict what would work and not work.

Kemi identified a dozen couples to use as her first experiment. They were all from a small secluded region in China with similar genetic makeup, that way she could easily identify the differences. She then requested historical data for previous pregnancies in that area, both healthy births and whatever data they could get around those with complications.

Within a day she was given a detailed account of the past 100 years of the region’s birth rate, percentages of miscarriage and term date of deliveries. For the last 25 years they even had DNA samples from the majority of mothers, most fathers and some babies who were born in the region’s hospitals, totaling over one million births.

Kemi was awestruck at the organization of the data, all following a strict format. “This could work…” she remembered thinking. She reorganized the large team reporting to her under her two goals. Dr. Zhu was tasked with being an advisor to her on top of running the whole program. They had been given a deadline to be able to fine tune the hormones to her statistical guidelines within one year. She would focus on growing the data science team across multiple regions throughout China. Within a month she had five teams, each for a specific region of China, with hundreds of couples and fifty million historical birth records.

Kemi was looking for ways in which the two DNA samples from the father and mother would join and what factors led to a healthy delivery. She would take huge amounts of data along well defined guidelines so that, when given a metric for success, could use machine learning to predict successes based on similar inputs.

Her ML features, the statistical values that was being optimized for, were the gene signatures found in both the parents and the baby in healthy deliveries. She then added more features for hormone levels at each week interval in their testing in the lab. It wasn’t perfect, but they started to predict success rates at the 10 week mark pretty reliably. As time went by they were further fine tuning the hormone levels the placenta would deliver based on the genetic makeup of the father, mother and embryo.

Improvements built on top of each other and after two years of research an embryo maintained a healthy connection at the eleven week mark for the first time. Then the embryo was healthy at twelve weeks. And then twenty. Over time the team went from excitement and celebration to concern about the unknown. The gravity of what they were on the precipice of achieving was evident in the tone of meetings. No longer were there discussions of whether their ultimate goal was possible, but when.

The team also had no game plan for what to do next. They were flying blind about what hormones the xPod needed, making minor adjustments as Kemi saw fit, but when the embryo got to fortyweeks they were well aware how unprepared they were for labor. The trauma of delivery was just too much and the baby was lost.

A horribly tragic moment for the entire team, but especially the parents who were waiting every day in the waiting room. Everyone was given a week off and the parents of the child were given promises of a future family and a generous compensation package for their loss. Dr. Zhe brought the team together to remind everyone what they were there to do. Yes, this was a tragic loss, but they must keep going.

Although Dr. Zhe had big plans for Fan and Liu, there were hundreds of other couples that were part of his research. Each prospective mother provided at least one hundred eggs and most had previously had a successful pregnancy without any complications. When Fan arrived she had waited six months before starting her antivirals, a risky move considering her cancer was growing, but that allowed her to produce forty eight eggs. They used two of her eggs early on to get data on their early fertilization genetic make up, but were waiting until the xPod passed the first trimester to be begin using Fan’s eggs, with the goal of Fan and Liu being the first xPod parents.

Now that they had crossed the ten week mark they were ready to use Fan and Liu’s embryo. Kemi promoted two of her top scientists to continue the research on hormonal levels and had them report directly to Dr. Zhe.

She dedicated her time to answer so many unknown questions. What causes labor? How can we induce in the confines of the xPod? She had ten months to test and perfect the process first on mice, then other mammals. The first of Fan’s embryos only reached eight weeks, but the second sailed through the ten week mark. As they approached the forty week mark Kemi was nervous, but confident they were ready.

And then…as if it was the most natural event in history, an xPod carrying Fan and Liu’s baby was given a new set of hormones, compressed down, the hard plastic cut, and a beautiful baby girl cried in the welcoming hands of Fan, while hundreds of cameras recorded the first baby born with the science of ectogenesis. They named her Hua.

Yuma, Arizona — Jan 2nd, 4534

Local Birth Rate: 0.0

Once the rovers could reproduce their own core components they began the process of building a new machine that could produce entirely new rovers, slightly improved for the conditions of Arizona. They were also manufacturing more solar panels and producing large tanks to hold various liquids and gases. The rovers then began harvesting other materials to produce liquid oxygen and fuel, and by the end of the year they had refilled the rocket with propellent. As the first new rover came off a new assembly line and began the process of building a second new rover, the other twelve were lifted into to the rocket as it took off towards the heavens.