The stage, the curtains, the lights—all was ready for the babyshow.

Jonathan Weiss was also ready. He had put on his only suit, inherited from his father, reserved for the most special of occasions. It distinguished him from his usual country look, and for that reason, he found it uncomfortable.

‘When will they be done?’

The question wasn’t really directed at anyone, but Amanda knew that if she didn’t give an answer, he would complain.

‘I don’t know, dear.’

She was sitting nervously in one of the armchairs of the babyshow waiting room. The teal walls and cream floor helped soothe her a little, but her husband’s impatient posture, as always, dominated all. She watched him move irritably from one foot to the other, his corpulent silhouette dancing in front of the only window in the room. On a winter afternoon, without the lights turned on, the fleeting daylight was the only thing illuminating the chamber. With a tired breath, Amanda closed her eyes to try to calm herself down, as she sat in her husband’s shadow.

‘It’s a long fucking ordeal,’ he said irascibly, settling finally on two feet.

He looked out the window at the parking lot. It was almost empty on a Wednesday.

‘What fucking idea is it anyway, to have people go through something like this?’ he said.

‘I don’t know, dear,’ replied Amanda. She had opened her eyes now, assuaged that her husband hadn’t moved from the window.

‘And what if they say no? Huh? What then?’

Jonathan turned to look at his wife. When she saw him look at her, her eyes jumped, beginning the scramble for an answer.

‘I’m sure they won’t say no, dear,’ she said. She hoped she answered correctly.

‘You’re sure, you’re sure. Fuck do you know?’

He looked her up and down.

‘You don’t look sure.’

Jonathan stepped away from the window and towards his wife, letting more light into the room. Amanda watched him progress closer to her, patiently but uncertainly. When he reached the middle of the room, he stopped and produced a superficial smile.

‘Relax more, would you? You’re making me nervous.’

Amanda smiled back. When she saw him continue to look at her, she attempted to loosen her slender arms a bit, letting them drop from the armrests down to her sides. That seemed to please him, and he looked away, resuming his impatient amble around the room.

They sat in complete silence for a few minutes. When the knock on the door finally came, they both let out a sigh of relief.

‘Come in,’ said Jonathan, positioning himself to face the door.

From the door entered a man with short brown hair, wearing a white labcoat. Under his left armpit he had a clipboard, its respective blue pen poking out of his breast pocket. When he saw the couple, he smiled broadly, noticing their discomfort.

‘Mr. and Mrs. Weiss?’ he said.

‘That’s correct,’ answered Jonathan. He always tried to speak properly around townsfolk.

‘I’m Dr. Sandy,’ said the man, closing the door behind him. ‘We’ve spoken over the phone.’

‘Yes, Sandy,’ confirmed Jonathan, remembering the brief and unpleasant conversation. ‘How are things going, Dr. Sandy?’

‘They’re going well. Everything is set up, and we’re almost ready for the babyshow. All that’s left is for you to sign this, and we’re good to go.’

The doctor took the clipboard and handed it to Jonathan. The pen quickly followed, and Jonathan briskly flew through the clipped pages to the last, where his signature was required. Without much thought, he squiggled his name at the bottom, handing the board and pen back as quickly as he had received it.

The doctor took the board from the husband and passed it on to Amanda, who had sat mutely since he arrived.

‘Your signature too, ma’am,’ said the doctor, handing her the pen.

Amanda looked at the forms before her. There seemed to be so many of them, and glancing through, she could spot some things that made her uncertain. But she knew asking would only make her husband angry for nothing, so she found the last page, where an empty line was patiently awaiting her signature. She lifted the pen to it, ready to put it down, but as she did, she stopped.

‘What is this, exactly?’ she asked, looking at the doctor.

A groan materialised on her husband’s face, but with the doctor present, he did his best to suppress it.

‘It’s a liability waiver,’ explained Dr. Sandy. ‘It simply states that, since you’re the ones providing the material for the babyshow, you will be responsible for anything which might happen to it. It’s a technicality, really.’

Amanda wanted to ask what things could go wrong, but seeing her husband’s distaste she stopped herself. She returned the pen to the page and signed her name next to Jonathan’s.

‘Thank you,’ said the doctor upon retrieving the form. ‘If you follow me, I will take you to the viewing area.’

Dr. Sandy promptly swung back around and opened the door, walking out and leaving the couple behind. Jonathan gave his wife one more censuring glance before following the doctor out.

Amanda tried to stand up, but her first attempt was stifled by a growing discomfort in her stomach. She knew it was the nerves. They were the first thing she felt when she woke up that morning, and they only got worse as the day went on. She took a deep breath in, and on the exhale, lifted herself from the armchair. Without any further delay, she followed the men out of the room.

The couple was guided silently through the building. They walked through a short hallway with nondescript doors on both sides, before reaching one with the word Show¹ written above it in bold red letters. To the sides of that door there were two more which appeared to be connected to the main one.

After reaching the end of the corridor, Dr. Sandy stopped and knocked on the door to the left. A couple seconds later the door opened, and a young man in a t-shirt and jeans walked out into the corridor.

‘This is Ross,’ introduced Dr. Sandy. Ross gave the couple a nod. ‘He’s the chief projector. He will be in charge of producing your simulant.’

The couple listened without giving any indication of understanding.

‘I need one of you to come with me to clear some things up,’ said Ross, breaking the awkward silence. ‘I need to explain the process to make sure you understand.’

‘I’ll go,’ said Jonathan. He didn’t want his wife asking any more questions which would delay them even further. Amanda gave him a look, but said nothing.

‘Alright,’ said Ross. ‘Come with me.’

Jonathan joined him and the two disappeared through the left door, leaving Amanda and Dr. Sandy alone in the corridor.

The moment the door shut, Amanda walked up to the doctor, getting close enough to whisper.

‘Did you make sure it’s a boy?’ she asked. Her voice was quick and hushed—she wasn’t sure how long Jonathan would be gone.

Dr. Sandy looked at the wife. He let out a sigh.

‘Ma’am,’ he said, also with a lowered voice, ‘you know we can’t do that. It’s unethical–’

‘Please,’ she pleaded. She reached for the doctor’s hand, grabbing it tightly. ‘Did you?’

Dr. Sandy looked the poor woman in the eyes, then looked away. He said nothing, only taking his free hand and patting Amanda’s supplicating grip.

A noise came from the door. Amanda immediately stepped away from the doctor, attempting to erase any trace of stress from her face.

The door swung open. Jonathan and Ross walked back out into the corridor. The husband returned to his wife’s side.

‘Okay,’ said the doctor with a finalising sigh, ‘if you want, you can go backstage through this door,’ he pointed to the door on their right, ‘the crew usually likes to talk with the parents beforehand, to get a good idea of what they expect from the show.’

‘They know what to do,’ said Jonathan decidedly. He was becoming visibly irritated with how long it was all taking. ‘Can we get it started already?’

‘Of course,’ said the doctor, also prepared to be finished with this couple. He gave Ross a nod to dismiss him. The latter returned one in understanding, and walked back through the door, disappearing once more out of sight.

‘In that case, please come in,’ said the doctor. ‘Let me show you the viewing area.’

Dr. Sandy walked through the middle door, and the couple followed right behind him. The door led to a small room with two rows of five seats. On one end of the room was a stage with red curtains drawn. To the left of the front row of seats there was a CRT television. The screen was off, and it was oriented to face the stage.

‘Please, take a seat,’ invited Dr. Sandy, gesturing at the seats. The couple sat in the first row, right next to the display. The doctor then walked in front of them, placing his hand on the CRT.

‘This display will show you the projection of your baby. As the simulant watches the show, we will be able to see whether it enjoys it, and if it agrees that it wants what it’s watching, we will have the consent we need for this child to be conceived.’

Jonathan was not looking at the doctor as he spoke, too annoyed to pay him any more attention. Amanda, on the other hand, was hanging on every word.

‘How will we know if it’s enjoying the show?’ she asked.

‘It differs from child to child,’ answered the doctor, ‘but typically we might see the child smile, or start trying to mouth something, like it wants to eat the show,’ he smiled, ‘it’s unfortunately a little subjective, but I’m sure we’ll know when the time comes.’

Amanda gave the doctor a polite nod, then looked at her husband. This time, he did not stir at her question. He sat looking forward, unmoving, ready for the show to begin.

‘Perfect,’ continued Dr. Sandy, ‘I’ll leave you to it, then. I’ll be in the back with Ross, watching the display, and we will let you know if the moment of consent comes. If you need anything from me, please let me know. Irina should be out with you shortly to begin the show.’

‘Thank you,’ said Amanda.

The doctor gave the couple one last look, before walking out the door and shutting it behind him.

A few seconds passed. Steps could be heard from the stage. They were coming from behind the curtain, getting closer and closer, until the parting between the curtains moved, and a woman in her mid-forties emerged from behind it. Giving the couple a temporary nod as a greeting, she walked to the side of the stage, where a few steps took her down to the floor. Within moments, she was in front of the couple.

‘Hello,’ she said with a wave, ‘I’m Irina. We spoke on the phone.’

Irina extended her arm for a handshake. Amanda obliged, but Jonathan ignored her as if she wasn’t there.

‘Well,’ continued Irina, ‘I’m the director for the babyshow. I’m here to ensure that your to-be child sees all the beauty the world has to offer, and wants to be here as much as we do!’

Irina spoke almost in song, smiling with every word, like a character in a play.

‘Do you remember what you asked for the show or would you like me to remind you?’

‘We remember,’ said Jonathan, surprising both women. He had blurted the words out as if he had been holding them back, and still did not look at Irina.

Irina had had some of her momentum drained by Jonathan’s rude response, and it took her a second to bring back her smile.

‘Well, in that case, if you want to follow me, I can give Ross the green light and we can begin the show.’

Jonathan finally looked at Irina, staring her down with a critical look.

‘Follow you? Where?’

‘Just up to the stage,’ she answered. ‘Before the show, we like to give the unborn baby a nice view of the happy parents which will be taking care of it in this world. We find that by letting the first thing the child sees be its parents, we drastically improve the chances of consent during the show.’

Jonathan looked away with a blank expression.

‘Fine,’ he said. He stood up from his seat and began making his way to the stairs of the stage.

Irina gave Amanda a look, and she promptly rose and followed her husband. Once the couple were on the stage, Irina walked up behind them.

‘Okay, stand just like that,’ she said. ‘All you really need to do is smile, maybe hug a little. When you hear the music coming on, the curtains will open behind you and you can go back to your seats and watch the show—although, I know most parents are too focused on watching their baby to even notice the show! Okay, I’ll go to the back and signal to Ross that we’re ready to get going. When you see your little one on that screen, make sure to show them all the love you can give!’

Irina chirped excitedly and skipped back behind the red curtains, leaving Amanda alone with Jonathan. They were already standing shoulder to shoulder facing the display, and the wife reached to hold her husband’s arm. Amanda looked at him, noticing his expression had only worsened since Irina showed up.

‘Honey,’ she said in a soft voice, ‘we need to smile for the baby.’

Jonathan slowly panned his eyes over to Amanda, looking down on her. He said nothing, leaving a bitter scowl on his face as he looked back to the CRT.

The couple watched the screen of the display intently. After a few seconds, they began to wonder whether Irina had done as she promised and notified Ross, or if they were standing there like fools waiting for nothing. Then, their question was answered. The screen of the CRT turned on. Feeling like she had been placed in an important situation without enough time to prepare, Amanda scrutinised the display for any signs of the simulant, but could only see a single blue colour, taking up the whole screen.

‘Hello,’ said a voice from somewhere around them. It sounded electronic, like it was coming from an intercom system. ‘This is Ross. If you can hear me, please nod your heads.’

Amanda nodded readily. After some hesitation, Jonathan gave a single nod.

‘Perfect. Right, we’re just about ready to get this show on the road. Irina told me she explained what you have to do, so if you’re ready, I’ll begin to project the simulant, and we can get started.’

Amanda thought to herself for a second. Although the entire day was marked with an unrepeatable uniqueness, this particular moment felt more important than anything else. She knew she wanted to begin, but she also realised that in a moment, she would see the artificial projection of her unborn child. She would see her baby, when her baby didn’t even exist in this world. When the show would end, she would have to say goodbye, and although she tried to comfort herself as well as her husband that there was nothing to worry about, she knew that there was always the possibility that this would be the one and only time she would see this child. Her child. She would see her child die before it was even conceived.

Amanda raised her eyes from their fallen spot on the floor and looked at the CRT. She gave a firm, decisive nod.

In the time Amanda had spent thinking to herself, Jonathan had already long nodded himself.

‘Okay then,’ continued Ross. ‘You should see the simulant on the screen any minute now.’

The couple glued their eyes to the display. After a second, some movement could be seen at the centre of the screen. It looked to be a spherical mass, moving and growing in different directions. It grew quickly, beginning only as a cluster of pixels and doubling in size in a couple seconds. When it was about three times as large as the initial cluster, it started to grow arms and legs, with a spherical shape protruding from the top resembling a head. The couple watched mesmerised as the imaginary child grew before them. Even Jonathan was impressed, despite his hatred for the entire process, though he would never show or admit it. They witnessed as the amorphous blobs came to look like a baby human—the ends of the arms and legs grew hands and feet, and those grew fingers and toes; on the head, a small opening grew to become a mouth, a little protrusion gained two holes to become a nose, and two little gems, shiny and clear, became the eyes. The growth slowed once the child took up about two thirds of the screen, and eventually it stopped.

The digital baby remained suspended at the centre of the display as if it were in liquid, swimming with its arms and legs resting outwards. After a moment, it took its first blink. The projection took some time to learn to move its head, then realised that only seconds after being created, it could see the world before it. Soon its eyes locked on to the only two people it could see in front of it—its parents—and it began to stare at them intently.

Jonathan looked at the digital child nonplussed. He had not imagined what the process itself would look like beforehand, but he had assumed that at least it would appear believable. This, however, looked ridiculous. They were trying to tell him this was his child? This looked like it could be anybody’s child, any kind of baby that they animated to put on a show for hopeful parents. This was a joke, and it was evidence that the whole world was spiralling downwards into shit from the one he had happily grown up in. He wanted to spit on the whole display, leave now, but he couldn’t. He knew that this was the bureaucracy, that he wanted the additional help on the farm, and that despite everything, this was the way to handle things that would give him the least hassle down the line. He would entertain this show a little longer. It would all be in the past once the child was conceived.

Amanda, on the other hand, felt no doubt when she saw the child. The soft, youthful skin, the beautiful, gleaming eyes; that was her baby, and she loved it. She loved it with all her heart, though she couldn’t have even imagined it seconds before. The adoration for the little pixelated creation sent a wave of love and relief over her. She felt like she wanted to go up to him and hold him, hug him and keep him close. Him. The baby would be a boy.

Amanda needed no help smiling for the projection.

‘Hello,’ she said in a baby voice, waving at the display. Jonathan did not move in body or expression, but Amanda forgot he was even there. ‘I’m your mommy,’ she said through a beaming smile.

The baby blinked indifferently, showing no reaction to seeing its parents.

Suddenly, soft music began playing from both sides of the stage, indicating that the babyshow was to begin. The couple looked around confused for a moment, then saw the curtains move apart and remembered what Irina had told them. With one final wave from Amanda, the two of them walked off the side of the stage, returning to the seats they had come from.

The red curtains moved completely off the stage, revealing the backdrop of cut-out hills and trees. The music faded out, leaving a second of silence before a woman and man, both looking to be in their mid-twenties, entered from the left side of the stage. The woman had a basket hanging from one forearm, and the man kept a folded blanket tucked under his arm. They walked side by side, slowly looking around them, taking in the wonderful scenery.

‘What a beautiful world we live in,’ said the woman. She had long hazel hair and wore a low-cut baby blue sundress, and walked with a wide smile and graceful step. She looked at her companion, who smiled in return.

‘Yes,’ he agreed, ‘how full of life and wonder, joy and happiness; joy and happiness that we can share.’

The couple stopped abruptly. The man took his blanket, grabbing its corners and spreading it out on the ground between them. The two of them sat down next to one another on the blanket, the woman placing the basket between them.

‘What delicious food have we brought to our picnic?’ asked the man.

‘We brought amazing pasta,’ answered the woman, broadening her smile. ‘Here,’ she reached into the basket, ‘have some.’

From the basket she produced a small plate with spaghetti and tomato sauce. She handed the plate to the man, reaching back in for her own.

‘Mmmm,’ said the man, licking his lips and widening his eyes, ‘that looks so delicious!’

Once the two had their plates, the woman reached again into the basket to retrieve the utensils. She patted the bottom of the basket, certain she had left them on the closer side. Not finding them there, she patted the remainder of the basket. She reached the farthest corner of the basket, and the utensils were nowhere to be found.

This unpleasant surprise made the woman’s face tense up in panic, but she was a professional and didn’t let it show. She quickly removed her hand from the basket, looking to her companion.

‘But we are in no rush,’ she said, ‘we are free in this beautiful world!’

She briskly placed the plate of pasta on the blanket in front of her. The man gave her a critical look which only she could see, maintaining the smile on his face whilst asking her with his eyes: ‘what are you doing?’ Having unexpectedly moved off their script, he remained quiet, waiting for the woman to continue. They sat in silence for a second, when his partner suddenly jumped to her feet.

‘Let us enjoy this marvellous world!’ she said, opening her arms as if to embrace everything around them.

She skipped off the blanket and to the right of the stage, where she stopped and did a little twirl. The man watched her go, still putting on the expression of delight that they had to keep up, but no less lost as to how he should continue in this unplanned situation. In the single moment he had to think, he accepted that no matter what, he would have to stay positive, and not let the show fail because of his uncertainty. He chose that for the time being, he could follow what the woman was doing, and so he placed his own spaghetti on the blanket and rose to his feet.

‘Yes, let’s!’ he said, opening his arms to her in invitation. The woman stopped twirling and looked at him. ‘Let’s dance!’

The woman skipped, the man walked, and they met somewhere close to the midpoint between them, immediately placing their hands in one another’s. They paused for a moment, unsure what to do now. This moment wasn’t scripted, and they weren’t sure whether it would be possible to play music yet, or whether they would have to dance in complete silence. Fortunately, Irina was following their improvisation intently, and within seconds a joyful song began playing. A rush of relief washed over both the actors, and they started to dance to the music.

As Irina had predicted, Amanda had seen none of this, as from the moment the projection appeared on the display, she hadn’t looked away from it for a single second. There was something hypnotising in it for her, something surreal about looking at this baby as if it were right before her, yet in a moment it could disappear and she would never see it again. It made every moment of looking at her son that much more special, and a part of her worried that if she looked away, when she looked back he would be gone, and that by watching him she helped keep him alive that much longer. The projection, much like Jonathan, did not notice her at all, watching every moment of the show with infantile curiosity. He was yet to react in any way to what was being shown, which started to worry his mother, but she comforted herself by saying that it was only the beginning of the show and that the actors had definitely planned better parts for later on.

The buzzing sound of Amanda’s phone coming from her handbag distracted her. She looked inside to see what it was. It was Lorena, her daughter.

‘What is it?’ asked Jonathan irritably.

‘One second,’ answered his wife with a smile. ‘I’ll be back in a second.’

Amanda got up from her chair. Trying not to risk distracting the actors, she hunched over and rushed outside of the room. Once in the corridor, Amanda took her phone out of her handbag, answering the call.

‘Hello? Honey?’

‘Mom…’ answered Lorena. She wanted to continue, but Amanda could hear that she was choking through tears on the other end of the call.

‘What is it honey?’ she asked in a gentle voice. ‘Did something happen?’

‘I…’ her daughter spoke, trying to get a word out, but the tears were too strong. She kept sobbing.

‘It’s okay, honey,’ said Amanda, attempting to comfort her daughter as best she could. By now she was completely terrified about what could have happened, but she had to hold strong for her daughter. ‘Take your time. Just breathe.’

Lorena cried for a few more seconds, when she was able to catch her breath and calm herself down enough to talk.

‘Misty is hurt,’ she said.

Amanda’s heart stopped for a moment. Misty was their horse, the only animal they had left on their farm.

‘What do you mean, honey? What happened?’

Lorena started crying again, and she spoke through her tears.

‘I was trying to watch her, I promise I was watching her, but she’s just so big… I… I tried to hold her but she kept running and I fell and then there was a car and…’

The tears overwhelmed her again, and her words trailed off into sobs.

Amanda took a deep breath. Calming herself down, she tried to control her racing heart.

‘Are you okay, dear? Did you get hurt?’

‘I’m okay,’ she said through chokes.

A moment of silence fell between them on the call. Amanda took those long seconds to think.

‘It’s okay, sweetie,’ she said finally. ‘We’ll be back home soon, okay? Hold on until we get there. Don’t go anywhere. Okay?’

‘Okay,’ answered her daughter weakly.

‘Okay, dear. Everything will be okay…’

‘Mom?’

‘Yes, honey?’

‘Don’t tell dad, okay?’

Amanda fell silent.

‘I have to go now,’ she said. ‘Everything will be okay.’

‘Okay,’ answered Lorena.

‘We’ll be home soon,’ added her mother. She hung up the call, putting the phone back into her handbag.

Before re-entering the show room, Amanda stopped for a moment before the door. Poor¹ Misty¹, she thought, but her pity for the horse was quickly exceeded by her pity for herself and her family. These babyshows were so expensive, the family had to spend almost all of their savings to be able to afford it. That horse was supposed to be their last chance at stability. They were supposed to sell it to have any kind of money for the upcoming baby, which they hadn’t even considered could refuse to be born. Now, if the horse was really gone, they had nothing, truly nothing, and she had no idea what to do.

The desperate mother stood before the door for a while. She almost began to think about how dire their situation would be, but she knew well that if she allowed herself to fall into those thoughts now, she would become stuck in them like quicksand. Before she could even make it home, she would be eaten whole, and her helplessness would only worsen from there. She knew that for now, she needed to cast those thoughts away, return to the present moment, and guarantee that the babyshow was a success. All other worries were for the future. She needed to focus on the present.

Amanda opened the show door slowly, peeking in to make sure she wasn’t disturbing anything. She confirmed that the actors were still dancing, and she made her way quickly back to her seat.

‘When will these fuckers stop dancing?’ greeted Jonathan. ‘Who called you?’

‘It was Lorena.’

‘What did she want?’

Amanda went quiet for a moment.

‘She got her first period.’

‘Ugh,’ groaned Jonathan, an expression of deep disgust distorting his face.

Amanda’s attention returned to the digital infant beside them.

‘Has he moved yet?’

‘Do you think we’d still be sitting here if he’d fucking moved?,’ answered Jonathan without looking at her. ‘Fuck, will they please turn off this shit music!’

Meanwhile, the actors on stage were getting tired from their constant dancing, without any idea of what they should do next. The man was following the woman’s lead, hoping that she would be the one to invent their next step.

‘Stop fucking dancing!’ yelled Jonathan, dominating all sound in the small showroom. He was becoming too annoyed to bear this nonsense any more, and he decided that he no longer cared what the child would say about being born.

Amanda gasped when her husband acted so aggressively right in front of their unborn son. She wanted to speak up, but she knew that saying anything would only serve to rile him up further. She sat quiet, hoping his anger would pass on its own.

The cast of the show were surprised by this sudden aggression from the audience, a first in their babyshow careers. Irina, reacting to the outrage, turned off the music instantly. The cast immediately stopped dancing, halted mid spin, and the woman was caught so off guard that she became momentarily disoriented. She let go of the man, stepping backwards a few steps, where, in the newfound silence, she heard one of the floorboards creak. She froze in place, where the board started to make an odd crackling sound.

Suddenly, the floorboard broke completely, sending one of the woman’s legs falling through the floor.

She screamed. Her other foot lost balance and slipped, sending her entire body falling to the floor. Only one board broke, so she landed on her side, with one leg underneath the ground. Once she caught her balance, she was able to take a single breath, before turning down to look at her leg.

The woman screamed again, this time in pain. One of the broken halves of the board stuck out a sharp, splintered edge, which tore down her leg during her fall. There were now bloody pieces of wood sticking into the front of her thigh, and every movement only magnified the pain.

‘Hold on, don’t move, I’ve got you,’ said her partner, kneeling down beside her. He was ready to put his arms at her sides, but she stuck out her hand to stop him.

Amanda was watching the stage in terror. This¹ day¹ couldn’t¹ possibly¹ get¹ any¹ worse¹, she thought. She stared at the show in paralysed fear, failing to imagine how they could ever recover from such a catastrophe. The screaming, the blood, the fear—the baby would become terrified of this world, and any chance of consent was not even worth considering. The child was lost, her future baby was lost, and she only wished to look back at him one last time before he would disappear from her forever.

But when she looked back to the display, she did not see a baby who was afraid. The child, the projection of her future son, was smiling at the scene in front of them.

The woman bellowed loudly. The baby giggled.

After a second, he began to move his arms. With infantile dexterity, the baby stuck his tiny, chubby arms out before him. With arms outstretched, he started moving his fingers, closing and opening his fist. It looked as if the simulant was trying to reach in front of him and grab what he was seeing.

‘Perfect!’ said Ross’ voice over the intercom.

In an instant, the projection of the child was cut from the display, the screen falling back to its neutral blue colour from before.

‘That’s consent,’ added the disembodied voice.

The stage curtains began to roll in from both sides.

‘Finally,’ said Jonathan. He stood up from his seat, already beginning to walk to the door.

Amanda remained sitting. Everything happened so suddenly, she was failing to keep up. The baby was gone from the screen now, so quickly snapped out of existence. She looked back to the stage, the curtains closing on the actors who still hadn’t moved. She caught a glimpse of Irina running briskly towards them just as they all disappeared behind the red covering.

The show door opened. Dr. Sandy walked in.

‘Please, come outside,’ he said to the parents.

Jonathan obliged immediately. Amanda hesitated for another second, letting her thoughts catch up to the present, then followed her husband out, closing the door as she left.

‘So,’ said the doctor once the couple met him in the hallway, ‘the child gave consent to being born, which means that we can proceed with conception whenever you’re ready, assuming you still want to go ahead with the birth. Are you still interested in having the child?’

‘Of course,’ answered Jonathan.

‘And you, ma’am?’

Amanda wasn’t fully present with their conversation. Since leaving the show room, her eyes had been glued to the closed door. She listened to the muffled noises of the actress, who still hadn’t stopped screaming.

‘Ma’am?’ repeated the doctor.

The wife looked at him.

‘Would you still like to go ahead with the conception?’

Amanda looked at the door once more, then looked back.

‘Yes,’ she said.

6.V.2024