“It’s not creepy, stop saying that.” She flipped her hair over her shoulder and concentrated on the road ahead of them. Not that she was driving. Without a steering wheel, the idea of a driver’s seat had become something of a misnomer.
“I think it is,” he said.
“Look, I don’t want to go over it again. You of all people know the benefit of genetic editing. You came up with the way to eliminate Huntington’s disease. Eliminated. No one has it, no one can get it. It’s gone.” She flipped an open palm at him.
“That’s different. What I did isn’t a machine where you walk in and a star gets stitched to your belly. This isn’t cosmetic. This is editing yourself below a cellular level. This goes all the way down to your chromosomes. You can’t just mess with that.”
“But the changes are perfectly safe. you know that.”
“I don’t know that. What if something goes wrong?” He looked into her eyes. “I know, nothing will go wrong. Maybe that’s part of the problem. You’ll be fine. Better than fine. Perfect.”
“So what’s the big deal?”
“The deal is, I know you. I know who you are and all of your imperfections. I love that you are unique, that you are you. I don’t want to lose that.”
She sighed. “You won’t lose me. I’ll still be me after the procedure.”
“No, you won’t. That’s just it.” He swallowed. “You’re editing yourself. What goes in the box won’t be the same when it comes out again. It can’t be. You can’t be the same any more. Everything that makes you you will be different. I don’t think I can take that.”
She took a deep breath and huffed it out. “Well, you better start getting used to it. This is what I want to do. This is what I’m going to do.”
The car pulled up to the front doors of the GenEdit Clinic. —YOU HAVE ARRIVED AT YOUR FINAL DESTINATION—