The intense embryo wriggled in mother’s liquid. Artificial mama. It was the best that the secreting world of science in all its mind-raping glory could provide for the young one.
“What is this?” The interrogation of fragile lips lingered above the test-tube.
“An embryonic traveller. If you’re careful enough -” and pointing Mr. Goggle directed the ancient’s eyes to across the room.
“He was born yesterday, but here-” and Mr. Goggle’s gleefully spun his spittled hair as if suddenly seized by his inspirational demon and laughed. The ancient glared at the crazy man, shook his head down at the must-covered prophesy, then back at the revolving form in the oxygen-bubbled fluid.
Friction heated Mr.Goggle’s hands as he rubbed them. Almost tenderly he placed his palm against glass against face. “He’s 12 here. Then we found him before he was…”
Mr. Goggle and the ancient merged minds, crashing into silence as science worshiped itself, space hurtled birth, and the child in glass spoke,“I am/there you are…”.