Time Enough For Love Part 19

The kids were as healthy as they looked, aside from slight dental caries in him, two small cavities. I noticed that the factor's allegation about her was correct-virgo intacta, semilunar hymen, unfrayed, so I used my smallest speculum. She neither complained nor tensed up nor asked what I was looking for. I concluded that they had had regular checkups and other medical attention, far more than slaves on Blessed usually received.

She had thirty-two teeth in perfect condition but could not tell me when the last four molars had erupted, just that it was "not long ago." He had twenty-eight teeth and so little s.p.a.ce in his jaw for adult molars that I antic.i.p.ated trouble. But X-ray prints showed no buds.

I cleaned and filled the cavities, and made note that he must have those fillings removed and the tissue regenerated on Valhalla, and be inoculated against further decay; Valhalla had good dentistry, far superior to what I could do.

Llita could not tell me when she had last menstruated. She discussed it with Joe; he tried to count on his fingers how many days it had been since they had been taken from their home place, as they agreed that it was before that. I told her to let me know next time and each time, so that I could determine her cycle. I gave her a tin of napkins, emergency supplies I hadn't known I had-must have been in the ship twenty years.

She did tell me, and I had to open the tin for her; neither of them knew how. She was delighted with the little elastic panty included in the package, and often wore it when she did not need it, as "dress up." The kid was crazy about clothes; as a slave she had never had a chance to pamper her vanity. I told her it was all right as long as she washed it every time she wore it-I clamped down hard on cleanliness, inspecting their ears, sending them from the table to scrub their nails, and so forth. They had received no more training than a hog. She never had to be told twice, and picked on him and made sure that he met my standards, too. I found myself being more exacting with myself; I could not bring dirty fingernails to the table or skip a shower because I was sleepy-I had set the standards and had to live up to them.

She was almost as unskilled a seamstress as she was a cook, but she taught herself because she liked clothes. I dug out some bright-colored trade cloth and let her have fun-and used it as carrot-and-stick; wearing anything became a privilege that depended on good behavior. I put a stop that way-well, mostly -to her nagging her brother.

That wouldn't work with Joe; clothes did not interest him -but if he rated it, I gave him more of a working over during exercise period. Seldom-he was not the problem she was.

One evening, three or four of her periods later, I noticed on my calendar that she was past due-having forgotten the matter. Minerva, I never walked into their staterooms without knocking; shipboard life required such privacy as can be managed-too little, that is.

Her door was open, and her room was empty. I tapped on his door, got no answer, went on, looked for her in the wardroom and galley, even in our little gym. I decided that she must be taking a bath and I would speak to her in the morning.

As I pa.s.sed his stateroom again in heading back to my cabin, his door opened; she stepped out and closed it behind her. I said, "Oh, there you are!" or some such. "I thought Joe was asleep."

"He's just gone to sleep," Llita said. "Do you want him, Captain? Shall I wake him?"

I said, "No, I was looking for you, but I tapped on his door five or ten minutes ago and got no answer."

She was contrite over not having heard my knock. "I'm sorry, Captain. I guess we were so busy we didn't hear you." She told me how they were busy.

-which I had figured out, having suspected it from the moment I noticed that she was a week overdue after being clock regular. "That's understandable," I said. "I'm glad my knock didn't disturb you."

"We try never to disturb you you with it, Captain," she answered with sweet seriousness. "We wait till you go to your cabin at night. Or sometimes when you take siesta." with it, Captain," she answered with sweet seriousness. "We wait till you go to your cabin at night. Or sometimes when you take siesta."

I said, "Goodness, dear, you don't have to be that that careful. Do your work and keep your study hours, then do as you please the rest of the time. Starship 'Libby' is not a sweatship; I want you kids to be happy. Can't you get it through your fuzzy head that you are not a slave?" careful. Do your work and keep your study hours, then do as you please the rest of the time. Starship 'Libby' is not a sweatship; I want you kids to be happy. Can't you get it through your fuzzy head that you are not a slave?"

Apparently she could not, quite, Minerva, for she still fretted that she had not heard my knock and jumped to respond. I said, "Don't be silly, Llita. It will keep till tomorrow."

But she insisted she wasn't sleepy and was ready and anxious to do whatever I wanted-which made me a touch nervous. Minerva, one of the oddities about "Eros" is that women are never so willing as when they just have, and there was nothing in Llita's background to inhibit her. Worse, I found that I was aware of her as a ripe female for almost the first time since the two came aboard-she was standing close to me in a narrow pa.s.sageway, carrying in one hand one of those weird costumes she delighted in making, and was a bit whiff from happy exercise. I was tempted-and felt certain that she would respond at once and happily. The thought crossed my mind that she was already pregnant-nothing to fret about.

But I had gone to much trouble with these ephemerals to shift from slaveowner to father figure, stern but loving. If I took her, I would lose that and add one more disturbing variable to a problem already too complex. So I grasped the nettle.

[image]

Captain Sheffield said, "Very well, Llita. Come to my cabin." He headed toward it, she followed. Once there, he offered her a seat. She hesitated, then put her gaudy dress down and sat on it-thoughtfulness that pleased him, as the ignorant animal she had been would not have been capable of it; the humanizing process was working. He did not comment.

"Llita, your period is a week overdue, is it not?"

"It is, Captain?" She seemed puzzled but not troubled.

Sheffield wondered if he could be mistaken. After he had taught her how to open a sealed tin, he had turned over to her the limited emergency supply, warning her that if she used it too lavishly, she would have to fashion by hand some make-do, as Valhalla was months away. Then he had dismissed the matter other than to log it on his desk calendar whenever she reported onset. Could he have failed to notice? There had been three days last week when he had kept to his cabin, leaving the young people on their own and having his meals sent in-a habit he had when he wanted to concentrate on a problem. During such periods he ate little and slept not at all and barely noticed anything not part of what he was studying. Yes, it was possible.

"Don't you know, Llita? If you were on time, then you failed to report it."

"Oh, no, Captain!" She was round-eyed with distress. "You told me to tell you . . and I have have-every time, every time!"

Further questions showed first, that despite her new grasp of arithmetic she did not know when she should have experienced onset, and second, that it had not been last week but a much longer time.

Time to tell her-"Llita dear, I think you are going to have a baby."

Her mouth dropped open, again her eyes rounded. "Oh, wonderful!" wonderful!" She added, "May I run tell Josie? May I, She added, "May I run tell Josie? May I, please? please? I'll be right back!" I'll be right back!"

"Wups! Don't rush things. I said only that I thought so. Don't get your hopes up yet, and don't bother Joe with it till we know. Many a girl has gone much longer than a week past her date, and it didn't mean a thing." (But I'm pleased to learn that you want it, child, as it appears you've had every opportunity.) "Tomorrow I'll examine you and try to find out." (What did he have aboard for a pregnancy test? d.a.m.n it, if he must abort her, it should be as quickly as possible when it's no worse than plucking a splinter. Then-no, there wasn't so much as a "Monday morning" pill in the ship, much less modem contraception. Woodie, blast your stupid soul, don't ever go into s.p.a.ce again so poorly equipped!) "In the meantime, don't get excited." (But women always did get excited by it. Of course.) She was as dashed as she had been jubilant. "We tried so hard! Everything in the Kama Sutra and more. I thought we ought to ask you to show us what we were doing wrong, but Joe was certain we were doing it right."

"I think Joe is correct." Sheffield got up, poured a cup of wine for each of them while performing legerdemain which dosed hers such that she would go to sleep before long-after some relaxed talk that she might not remember; he wanted the full picture. "Here."

She looked at it dubiously. "I'll get silly. I know, I had a chance to try it once."

"This isn't the popskull they sell on Blessed; this is wine I fetched from Landfall. Pipe down and drink it. Here's to your baby if you're having one, or here's to good luck next time." (But how to handle that "next time"?-if his worries were well grounded. These kids must not not be saddled with a defective. A healthy baby would be burden enough while they were learnring to stand on their own feet. Could he stave things off to Valhalla, then get her on proper contraception? Then what? Split them up? be saddled with a defective. A healthy baby would be burden enough while they were learnring to stand on their own feet. Could he stave things off to Valhalla, then get her on proper contraception? Then what? Split them up? How? How?) "Tell me about it, dear. When you came aboard, you were virgin."

"Oh, yes, certainly. They always kept me locked in that virgin's basket. Except when they shut me up and Brother had to sleep in the barracks. You know. When I bleed." She took a deep breath and smiled. "Now is ever so much nicer. Josie and I tried for the longest time to get around that awful steel basket. But we couldn't. Hurt him to try, and some ways we tried hurt me, too. Finally we gave up and just did fun things we had always done. Brother said to be patient; it wouldn't be forever. Because we knew we would be sold together, as a breeding pair."

Estrellita looked radiant. "And so we were and now we are, are, and thank you, Captain!" and thank you, Captain!"

(No, it wasn't going to be easy to split them up.) "Llita, have you ever thought of being bred by some other man than Joe?" (Sound her out, at least. It won't be hard to find her a husband; she's really quite attractive. That "Earth Mother" feeling.) She looked puzzled. "Why, of course not. We knew what we were, way back when we were almost babies. Our mother told us, and so did the priest. I've always slept with Brother, all my life. Why would I want anyone else?"

"You seemed ready enough to sleep with me me. You claimed you were eager to."

Oh! That's different-that's your right. But you didn't That's different-that's your right. But you didn't want want me," she added, almost accusingly. me," she added, almost accusingly.

"That wasn't quite it, Llita. There were reasons-that I won't go into now-not to take you no matter if I wanted you and you were willing. Although it was Joe you really wanted, you said so."

"Well . . yes. But I was disappointed just the same. I had to tell Brother you wouldn't have me-which hurt all over again. But he said to be patient. We waited three more days before he broached me. In case you changed your mind."

(Nagging wife vertically-docile horizontally. Not too uncommon a pattern, Sheffield thought.) He found that she was looking at him with sober interest. "Do you want me now now, Captain? Joe told me, the very night he decided to go ahead, that it was still your right and always would be-and it is."

(Beelzebub's bra.s.s b.a.l.l.s!-the only way to avoid a willing female was to go off-planet.) "Dear, I'm tired, and you are getting sleepy."

She swallowed a yawn. "I'm not that that tired-I never am. Captain, the night I first asked you, I was a tiny bit scared. But I'm not scared now. I tired-I never am. Captain, the night I first asked you, I was a tiny bit scared. But I'm not scared now. I want want to. If you will." to. If you will."

"You're very sweet, but I am very very tired." (Why hasn't that dose taken hold?) He changed the subject. "Aren't those little bunks almost impossible for two people?" tired." (Why hasn't that dose taken hold?) He changed the subject. "Aren't those little bunks almost impossible for two people?"

She chuckled right through another yawn. "Almost. Once we fell out of Brother's bunk. So now we use the deck."

" 'The deck'? Why, Llita, that's dreadful. We must do something about it." (Put the kids in here? The only full-sized bed in the ship-A bride needed a proper workbench for her honeymoon . . which this was; she was deeply in love and should make the most of it, no matter what. Sheffield had decided, centuries back, that the saddest thing about ephemerals was that their little lives rarely held time enough for love.) "Oh, the deck isn't bad, Captain; we've slept on the floor all our lives." She yawned again, could not suppress it.

"Well . . tomorrow we'll make better arrangements." (No, his cabin wouldn't do; his desk was in here, and his papers and files. The kids would be in his way and he in theirs. Could he and Joe convert two narrow bunks into one double bed? Probably-although it would nearly fill one stateroom. No matter, that bulkhead between their rooms was not structural-cut a door and they would have a suite. A "bridal suite." For a sweet bride. Yes.) He added, "Let's get you to bed before you fall out of that chair. Everything's going to be all right, dear." (I'll d.a.m.ned well see to it!) "And tomorrow night and from now on, you and Joe can sleep together in a wide bed."

"Really? Oh, that would be"-she yawned again-lovely!"

He had to steady her into her stateroom; she was asleep as she hit the bunk. Sheffield looked down at her, said softly, "Poor little kitten." He leaned down and kissed her, went back to his cabin.

There he dug out everything the slave factor had offered as proof of the alleged odd genetic heritage of Llita and Joe, and gave each item intense study. He was looking for clues to truth or falsity of the allegation that they were "mirror twins" -complementary diploids having the same mother and father.

From such clues he hoped to estimate the probability of unfavorable gene reinforcement in any child Llita and Joe might have.

The problem seemed to divide into three (simplified) cases: The two might be no relation to each other. Chance of a bad reinforcement: slight.

Or they might be the usual sort of brother and sister. Chance of bad reinforcement: too high to be ignored.

Or they might be (as alleged) zygotes resulting from complementary gametes-all genes conserved at reduction-division but with no duplication. In this case the chance of unfavorable reinforcement would be-what?

Let that wait. First a.s.sumption, that they were no relation but simply raised together from babyhood-no special hazard, forget it.

Second a.s.sumption, that they might be full siblings of the usual sort. Well, they did not look like it-but, more important, that scoundrel had set up a most elaborate "store" for such a swindle, and had used publicly the name of a bishop to back him up. The Bishop might be just as crooked (likely-he knew that priesthood too well!)-but why be so careless when slave babies were so cheap?

No, even if he a.s.sumed a swindle, there was no reason to expect an unnecessary risk in a setup so elaborate. So forget that, too: Llita and Joe were not sister and brother in the ordinary sense-although they might have shared the same host-mother's womb. The latter, if true, was of no genetic significance.

So the remaining worry concerned the chance that the slave factor had told the truth-in which case what were the chances of a bad cross? How many ways could such artificially produced zygotes recombine unfavorably?

Sheffield tried to set up the problem while cursing the lack of sufficient data, plus the fact that the only real computer in the ship was the piloting computer, which could not be programmed for a genetics problem. He wished Libby were aboard. Andy would have stared at the bulkhead a few minutes, then come up with answers definite where possible and expressed in probability percentages where not.

A genetics problem, even with all pertinent data (many thousands!), was too unwieldly to solve without computer a.s.sistance.

Well, try some simplified ill.u.s.trative problems and see what insight could be gained.

Primary a.s.sumption: Llita and Joe were "mirror twins"-genetically complementary zygotes from the same parent zygotes.

Control a.s.sumption: They were unrelated other than being part of the home planet's gene pool. (An extreme a.s.sumption, as slaves from the same area were likely to derive from a much smaller gene pool, which might be still further reduced by inbreeding. But this "most favorable normal breeding pattern" was the correct control against which he must measure.) Simplified example: Test one gene site-call it site 187 of the twenty-first chromosome-for reinforcement, masking, or elimination, of an a.s.sumed "bad" gene, under each a.s.sumption.

Arbitrary a.s.sumption: Since this site might hold an unfavorable gene-or two, or none-in its gene pair, a.s.sume that the chance was exactly the same for both primary and control a.s.sumptions, and even-i.e., 25 percent no bad gene in the pair at the site, 50 percent one bad gene, 25 percent two bad genes-an extreme condition since, over the generations, reinforcement (two bad genes at one site) tended toward nonsurvival, either lethal or reducing a zygote's ability to compete. Never mind; make it even for both of them-there were no data on which to base any better a.s.sumption.

Wups! If a bad reinforcement was visibly demonstrated, or could be shown by tests, such zygotes would not not be used. A scientist competent to attempt this experiment would use specimens as "clean" in a genetic sense as possible-free of all the hundreds (thousands new?) of identifiable hereditary defects; the primary a.s.sumption should include this subsidiary a.s.sumption. be used. A scientist competent to attempt this experiment would use specimens as "clean" in a genetic sense as possible-free of all the hundreds (thousands new?) of identifiable hereditary defects; the primary a.s.sumption should include this subsidiary a.s.sumption.

These young people were free of any defect Sheffield could detect in a shipboard examination-which enhanced the probability that this horsethief had told the truth and these exhibits were sober records of an exotic and successful experiment in gene manipulation.

Sheffield now tended to believe that the experiment had taken place-and wished that he had the resources of a major Howard Clinic, say the one on Secundus, to give these kids a genetic going-over that he was not equipped to do aboard ship and not qualified to do in any case.

One nagging doubt lay in how he had acquired these kids. Why had that gonif been so anxious to sell? If they were what the exhibits claimed? Why sell them when breeding the two created complements back together was the next step of the experiment?

Well, perhaps the kids knew but he had not asked the right questions. Certain it was that they had been brought up to believe that such was their proper destiny; whoever planned this had induced in the kids from earliest childhood a pair-bond stronger than most marriages, in Sheffield's long experience. More than any of his own-(Except one, except one!) Sheffield put it out of his mind and concentrated on the theoretical consequences.

At the selected site, each parent zygote had been a.s.sumed to have three possible states or gene-pairs in probability 25-50-25.

Under the control a.s.sumption, parents (diploid zygotes) both male and female would show this distribution at the selected site: [image]

But under his modified primary a.s.sumption Sheffield a.s.sumed that the priest-scientist would discard bad stock as displayed in zygotes-which would eliminate the fourth group ("bad-bad") and leave a parent-zygote distribution for this site of: [image]

[image]

Such culling gave marked improvement over the original random-chance situation and meiotic division would produce gametes (both sperm and ova) in this incidence: Good, four out of six, and Bad, two out of six- -but with no way to detect the bad genes without destroying the gametes carrying them. Or so Sheffield a.s.sumed, while stipulating that the a.s.sumption might not be true forever. But to protect Llita (and Joe) it was necessary that his a.s.sumptions be pessimistic within the limits of available data and knowledge-i.e., that a bad gene could be spotted only as reinforcement in a zygote.

Sheffield reminded himself that the situation was never as black-and-white as was implied by "good-dominant" and "bad-recessive"-these descriptions were less complex than the real world they were used to image. A characteristic exhibited by an adult zygote was prosurvival or contrasurvival only in terms of what and when and where-and also in terms of more than one generation. An adult who died saving its progeny had to be counted a prosurvival whereas a cat that ate her own young was contrasurvival no matter how long she lived.

In the same vein, a dominant gene sometimes was of no importance one way or the other-e.g., brown eyes. Just as its corresponding recessive when paired and thereby reinforced to produce blue eyes gave the zygote exhibiting it no measurable disadvantage. The same was true of many other inheritable characteristics-hair patterns, skin color, et cetera.

Nevertheless this description-good-dominant, bad-recessive -was in essence correct; it synopsized the mechanisms by which a race conserved its favorable mutations and destroyed (eventually) its unfavorable mutations. "Bad-dominant" was almost a contradiction in terms, as a thoroughly bad mutation which was dominant killed itself off (along with the unfortunate zygote inheriting it) in one generation, either lethal in womb or so damaging to the zygote that it failed to reproduce.

But the usual weeding process involved bad-recessives. These could remain in the gene pool until one of two events happened, each controlled by the blind laws of chance: Such a gene could pair with a gene like it when sperm fertilized ovum and thereby eliminate itself by eliminating the zygote-hopefully before birth, or-tragically-after birth. Or this bad-recessive might be eliminated by chromosome reduction at meiosis and the result would be a healthy baby who did not not carry this bad gene in its gonads-a happy outcome. carry this bad gene in its gonads-a happy outcome.

Both these statistical processes slowly weeded out bad genes from the race's gene pool.

Unfortunately the first of these processes often produced babies viable but so handicapped they needed help to stay alive-sometimes needing economic help, born losers, who never managed to support themselves; sometimes needing plastic surgery or endocrine therapy or other interventions or supports. When Captain Aaron Sheffield had been practicing medicine (on Ormuzd and under another name), he had gone through stages of increasing frustration over these poor unfortunates.

At first he had tried to practice therapy by the Hippocratic Oath-or close to it; he was by temperament unable to follow any any man-made rule blindly. man-made rule blindly.

Then he had had a period of temporary mental aberrance during which he had sought a political solution to what he saw as a great danger: reproduction by defectives. He tried to persuade his colleagues to refuse therapy to hereditary defectives unless they were sterile or sterilized or willing to accept being sterilized as a precondition for receiving therapy. Worse yet, he had attempted to include in the definition of "hereditary defective" those who displayed no stigmata save that they had never managed to be self-supporting-on a planet not overcrowded and which he himself had selected centuries earlier as nearly ideal for human beings.

He got nowhere, he encountered nothing but fury and contempt-save for a few colleagues who agreed with him privately and denounced him publicly. As for laymen, tar-and-feathers was the mildest medicine they prescribed for Dr. "Genocide."

When his license to practice was lifted, Lazarus regained his normal emotional detachment. He shut up, realizing that grim old Mother Nature, red of tooth and claw, invariably punished damfools who tried to ignore Her or to repeal Her ordinances; he need not interfere.

So he moved and changed his name again and started to get ready to go off-planet-when a plague hit Ormuzd. He had shrugged and gone back to work, an unfrocked physician whose services were temporarily welcome. Two years and a quarter of a billion deaths later he was offered his license back -subject to good behavior.

He told them what to do with that license and left Ormuzd as quickly as possible, eleven year later. He was a professional gambler during that wait, that being the handiest way he could see at the time for saving up the necessary.

Sorry, Minerva, I was talking about those mirror twins. So the silly little wench was knocked up, which caused me to slip back into my baby-cotching, country-doctor persona persona, and I stayed up all night worrying about her and her brother and the baby they were going to have-unless I did something about it. To find out what I should should do, I had to reconstruct what do, I had to reconstruct what had had happened and from that what happened and from that what could could happen. Having no certain data, I had to follow that old rule for finding a lost mule. happen. Having no certain data, I had to follow that old rule for finding a lost mule.

First I had to think like that slave factor-A man who auctions slaves is a scoundrel but too smart to risk a caper in which he might wind up a slave himself, or dead if he was lucky-which is what would happen to one who played fast and loose on Blessed with the authority of a bishop. Ergo, the scoundrel had believed what he had said.

That being so, I could table the question of why this factor was commissioned to sell these two, while I tried to think like a priest-scientist engaged in human biological experimentation. Forget the chance that these two were ordinary siblings-no point in picking such a pair even for a swindle. Forget the chance that they were unrelated in any fashion, as in such a case it would simply be a normal case of breeding. Sure, sure, any woman can give birth to a monster, as even with the most genetically hygienic of breeding a bad mutation can show up-and an alert midwife may neglect to give that first lifegiving spank-and many have.

So I considered only the third hypothesis: complementary diploids from the same parents. What would this experimenter do? What would I I do? do?

I would use as near perfect stock as I could find and not start the experiment until I had both a male and a female parent who tested "clean" genetically in the most subtle ways for which I could test--which on Blessed meant quite sophisticated ways, for that century.

For a selected gene site and an a.s.sumption of 50-50 in the Mendelian distribution of 25-50-25, this pre-experiment testing would chop off the 25 percent chance of reinforcement of a bad recessive and leave a distribution of one-third bad, two-thirds good, at the parent generation-possible parents of possible Joes and Llitas, that is.

Now I start putting together mirror twins in my persona persona as a priest-experimenter. What happens? If we consider the minimum number of gametes needed to represent this one-third and two-thirds distribution, we get eighteen possible "Joes," eighteen possible "Llitas"-but in both male and female two of them show up as "bad"-the bad recessive has reinforced and the zygote is defective; the experimenter eliminates them . . or he may not need to; the reinforcement may be lethal. as a priest-experimenter. What happens? If we consider the minimum number of gametes needed to represent this one-third and two-thirds distribution, we get eighteen possible "Joes," eighteen possible "Llitas"-but in both male and female two of them show up as "bad"-the bad recessive has reinforced and the zygote is defective; the experimenter eliminates them . . or he may not need to; the reinforcement may be lethal.

We wind up at this point with an 8 & 1/3 percent improvement, or a total improvement of 25 percent in favorable chances for Llita's baby. I felt better. If you add the fact that I am the sort of a midwife who is too busy helping the mother to stop to spank a monster, the favorable chances went way up.

But all that this shows is that bad genes tend to be eliminated at eachgeneration-with the tendency greatest with the worst genes and reaching 100 percent whenever reinforcement produces a lethal-in-womb-while favorable genes are conserved. But we knew that-and it applies also to normal outbreeding and even more strongly to inbreeding, although the latter is not well thought of for humans as it hikes up the chances of a defective by precisely the same amount that it weeds-that being the hazard that I was afraid of for Llita. Everybody wants the human gene pool cleaned up, but n.o.body wants its tragic aspects to take place in his own family. Minerva, I I was beginning to think of these kids as "my family."

I still did not know anything about "mirror twins."

I decided to investigate a more probable incidence of bad recessives at a given site. Fifty-fifty is far too high for a really bad gene; the weeding is drastic, and the incidence drops to a lower percentage each generation, until the incidence of a particular bad gene is so low that reinforcement at fertilization is a rare event, as reinforcement is the square of the incidence; e.g., if one-in-a-hundred haploids carry this bad gene, then it will be reinforced one-in-ten-thousand fertilizations. I speak of the total gene pool, or in this case a minimum of two hundred adult zygotes, female and male; random breeding in such a pool will bring together that bad reinforcement only by that long chance-a chance happy or unhappy depending on whether you look at it impersonally in terms of cleaning the gene pool or personally in terms of individual human tragedy.

I looked at it very personally; I wanted Llita to have a healthy baby.