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        Death is always tragic. But the death of a child is even more so, not just in the death itself but in the unbearable end of a new life.

        Francesca’s death had all but buried her parents alive, submerging them under tidal waves of terrible grief . For there is no cure, no immediate antidote to the acute pain that trails the loss. For the finality of forever translates itself into a living hell.

        Joanie wondered just how long more she could continue to exist outside of time in a place that held no peace, no hope and no joy. The vicar, well intentioned in his cliches had promised her that time alone would heal and that the searing pain would eventually lessen. He was wrong.

        Months later the pain had become a part of her, a living breathing entity that dictated her the course of her days which were largely spent lying in a darkened room clutching onto Francesca’s teddy bear or a little dress that miraculously still reeked of her essence. This seemed to be the only way to contain the pain that waited for her like the enemy at the gate.

        At forty she had all but given up on the idea of a child, instead pursuing her career with the doggedness and determination of the child -free woman. Any maternal longings were sublimated under mounds of figures and tax returns and Joanie somehow managed to convince herself that some things were just not meant to be.

        Yet it was under this determined amnesia that Francesca somehow sprang into being restoring her faith in her ability as a woman.

        And now that life that was so full, so brimming with newness and promise was gone, extinguished and nothing or nobody could fill the blankness of Francesca’s space.

        The power to create an identical human being was what drove Dr Stein. A greying scientist in his fifties Dr Stein had married his job very early in life investing himself totally in his work as a research scientist. Having completed his doctorate on cellular therapy Dr Stein knew that it was within the range of possibility to clone a human being. The seed of the miracle of life was contained within the cell itself and the splitting of a single egg to form a set of identical twins was an example of the miracle of DNA duplicating itself and spitting out two of the same person. Nobody had any objection to twins so why had the general public developed such a distaste for cloning?

        Dr Stein partially blamed the media for the negative hype surrounding cloning. It never ceased to amaze him what swayed public opinion against progress. People had for whatever strange reason a fear and a distrust at scientists tampering with nature. A little knowledge is a dangerous thing, thought Dr Stein. He himself did not look at nature as benignly as they did. Nature was cruel and ruthless and undiscriminating. It caused more casualties each year than any scientific hiccups. Was it any wonder that people like him sought to gain supremacy over nature and elected to win? It frustrated Dr Stein to think that having spent his entire life dedicated to his work his research would never become a reality without adequate funding.

        In the twilight hours as the day was sucked into the night there was a time when for some reason Joanie felt calmed by a dreamlike state that acted as a dam to the coldness of the truth. But the images birthed in dreams can only touch but can never change reality She would sell her soul if she thought she could reclaim the child that was once a living breathing being.

        Dr Stein made no secret of his ambition to be the first to clone a human being. Already he and his colleagues at the Wainright laboratory had played a substantial role in the cloning of smaller species such as mice and rats. In England the work of a former colleague had already made news headlines with the cloning of the first sheep named Dolly.

        Dr Stein wasn’t getting a lot of sleep these days. To those who knew him he appeared driven, distracted even from the gene therapy that they were being paid to complete. He knew of course that what he was planning was illegal but the adrenaline rush that he got each time he worked on his cloning theory far surpassed any feeling he got when working with animals.

        By seven in the evening the research team went home, leaving him to rattle around in the laboratory. To the backdrop of squealing mice Dr Stein continued to work well into the night. A man with a mission feels neither hunger nor pain. His energy focuses at attaches itself to the task in question causing him to soar way beyond his own physical limitations.

        Underneath the microscope the cells duplicated and divided as if by some unseen hand that guided their every movement. Dr Stein fumbled with his notes and added his latest findings with regards perfecting the egg enucleation and heteronuclear transfer. By the end of the month he should be able to conclude his findings.

        Joe although beside himself with grief watched over Joanie making little attempts to assuage her pain, cooking her favourite meals night after night, staying with her until the tears dried and the sobbing ceased in the early hours of the endless brittle mornings. He forced himself to go to work each day as though his mind and soul depended on its numbing capacity.

        The friends and well wishers who had in the beginning flocked to the source of their grief lessened in their numbers in the weeks and months that followed. Joanie really wanted to die but the body very often does not obey the dictates of the will. From somewhere deep in her psyche she knew that there wasn’t a future without Francesca, only a black hole that beckoned once she thought beyond a certain point.

        Joe suggested a trip perhaps to Europe or a visit to her sister’s home in Canada but Joanie felt any suggestion to be a travesty to the memory of her child that she had loved beyond reason.

        In one of those rare moments that we perceive as chance but that can later be redefined as destiny Joanie happened upon Dr Stein. In the mornings she would flick aimlessly through the TV channels and today she stopped at Dr Stein explaining about the inherent difficulties that peppered the paths of scientists as they unanimously worked towards the betterment of humankind. He was saying that if the public would only realise that cloning was not in any way a threat to the lives of the public then scientists like him would be able to make cloning a reality.

        Joanie turned up the volume and focused her attention on the small grey haired man with cornflower blue eyes that reflected understanding and wisdom.

        “We are now on the threshold of our cloning the first human being,” he intoned despite the murmuring of disapproval from the audience. “Cloning a human being is not about creating a monster, nor is it about mass producing humans. It is about replicating the DNA of an existing or in some cases a deceased person.”

        The objections rolled fast and furious from the audience but Dr Stein rejected any moral implications that he was playing God. He was simply recreating a life that had already existed.

        What about the soul they cried. But Dr Stein quietly refuted their points saying that he believed the brain to be the determining factor in man’s personality and the existence of a hypothetical soul had not yet been proven by science.

        At this statement there was an outcry but Dr Stein continued to speak above the fracas.

        “Just think of the help we can give to infertile couples or to couples that have most a child. We can give hope and we can give new life. What we urgently need is adequate funding to continue with our work. Let us not forget that all the great discoveries that we now benefit from were frowned upon initially. I would not condone cloning if I thought it had any deleterious effects on a human being. Thank you for your time. “

        To avoid the verbal backlash Dr Stein removed himself from his seat and quite simply disappeared from the camera. Joanie noted the number of the TV station and sat in the stillness of the room contemplating the implications of what the scientist had just said.

        “One moment please,” said an obviously bored and underpaid secretary as she attempted to connect Mrs Whyte to Dr Stein.

        “Dr Stein speaking. How may I help you?” He listened. She spoke. Occasionally he interjected with sounds of advise and sympathy for what seemed to be a very distressed lady. In his own reserved way which some would translate as clinical Dr Stein explained the chemical procedure involved. In order to replicate the DNA of her child he would need access to the some cells of the deceased child. Joanie explained that because she had been unable to lay her child to rest in the family crypt her body was being held in storage in the city morgue. Dr Stein also told her that the process of cloning a human being was still figuratively speaking in its embryonic state, that what was needed was time and adequate funding.

        “Money is not an obstacle where we’re concerned Dr Stein. We have enough for $500,000 up front and $500,000 on delivery of the healthy baby.

        And so the race against time and death began. The TV show although it evoked a lot of negative criticism also brought in the much needed donations. Wealthy business men with infertile wives were being offered the chance to propagate themselves, sometimes two at a time.

        Much to the consternation and frustration of Dr Stein the US government had not yet sanctioned cloning which meant that he could not proceed with his work as he would be subject to state intervention and bureaucratic intrusion. When Mr Owens a retired business man in the Bahamas offered him a premises, an oasis against any political storms Dr Stein and his assistants relocated and through themselves into the process of playing God.

        Despite outside temperatures of over a hundred everyday Dr Stein worked furiously towards the creation of a human totally at the hands of man. Months later he made the breakthrough he had been looking for. After 400 attempts he finally managed to electrically stimulate the egg that contained the genetic coding of Francesca Whyte, the egg that would now be implanted in the mother of the deceased in the hope that it would grow to full term.

        Joanie had waited for this moment all these months. She was being sustained by hope and now the night before the procedure to implant the embryo she prayed. She prayed to the God that had once stolen her child and begged him, implored him to deliver her back safely to her home here on earth. With the arrival of morning Joanie felt strangely peaceful and optimistic. Perhaps God had decided to bless her just one more time.

        Joanie arranged to stay on at the clinic centre for observation once the embryo was implanted. Dr Stein very patiently explained the procedure, how he had taken a single cell from Francesca and taken its genetic blueprint and then transferred it into a hollowed out unfertilised donor egg. Once the egg was stimulated into fertilisation by electrical means it would be placed inside her body so she could carry it to term.

        During her stay at the clinic Joanie developed a close rapport with Dr Stein and regarding him more and more as a father figure, one who would look after and make her whole again. She would look at his tired eyes as he poured profusely over his notes and tapped his pencil over his right temple and think that this was the man with the power to really change the world for the best.

        The worse part was the waiting with baited breath to see if the embryo had successfully implanted. In Joanie’s dreams she would see Francesca running ot her with open arms and squealing with joy. Instinctively she knew her baby had already begun a journey it had already taken in the past and for the second time in her life she was going to give life.

        Dr Stein did not express the excitement he felt inside when the pregnancy tests proved positive. He was also reluctant to publish any of his findings until after the baby was born but it seemed these days that nothing could go wrong and he walked around with a permanent grin on his face. By now he had a waiting list consisting mostly of people who wanted to recreate a dead child or who wanted to achieve immortality through the gene pool.

        This time Joanie opted for natural childbirth. For her the pain held no relevance as it was only physical. Her heart that was wide open in anticipation of the arrival of Francesca was enough to sustain her throughout the 14 hour labour she would have to endure. Joe watched his wife who seemed to be seeing beyond someplace in the room and he hoped and prayed to the God that had once failed him that nothing could go wrong this time. For some strange reason he thought about the vicar who had told him that there is a time to be born and a time to die. He hadn’t mentioned rebirth only on some vague sense with the after life.

        After 14 hours the miracle child that was so eagerly awaited slithered into the world. There was a hushed silence in the room as the obstetrician handed the baby to Joanie who opened her eyes and gazed down at the baby that was the living image of her dead child. Tears coursed down her face for her angel had been brought back to life. This was Francesca. She had to be.

        Neither Joanie nor Joe had been prepared for the publicity that surrounded the birth of their daughter. But she was after all the first human being to have been cloned and it was thus their duty to share her with the rest of the world, as a symbol of hope for the future of mankind. Overnight Dr Stein was being hailed as a miracle man someone whom the people could worship as they might a God who could offer them the hope and consolation that they could only previously have dreamed of. Pictures of a smiling Francesca with Dr Stein adorned the covers of every newspaper and scientific magazine in the world. There seemed to be no end to the celebration of her life, indeed some might say there was a national euphoria, am embracing of the future possibilities that science could now offer.

        “We can live forever. Death is not the end,” screamed the newspapers. Television broadcasting stations clamoured to include the honourable Dr Stein in their programmes trying to satisfy the insatiable appetite of the public for his work. But there were those whom the enthusiasts labelled as the harbingers of doom who adopted a more pessimistic tone and warned of the dangers of toying with nature but they were largely ignored as being anti progress and life.

        Friends and family were amazed at Francesca’s double and were even more amazed to discover that this new child was to be given the same name. It made them wonder if the baby was being called after her dead sister or if it really was the former Francesca who had miraculously come back to life. She certainly seemed the same and looked the same and even acted in the same way the first child did. She had the same curly blond hair that stuck out on the right side, the identical splattering of freckles across the bridge of her nose and she was as equally fascinated about worms and fairies as her predecessor was. Joanie’s life had come back into the light and she celebrated each new day with her daughter as a miracle.

        When Francesca was three she began to babble about the other world, about the place she had come form but Joanie dismissed her childish words as nonsense and laughed at the fantasy of it all.

        “But Mummy I want to go back swimming with the angels,” she would whine while curling up into a tight ball and sucking her thumb defiantly. But Joanie would smile her ever patient smile and bid her sweet dreams as she would kiss her goodnight and the little girl would drift off onto a world that only she was privy to.

        Eventually it was to Joe that the little girl turned to when her mother went shopping one day to town. She poke to him of the other world as though it were a place right next to this one. It was a place of light and sunshine and she was very happy there, happier than she had ever been. Sitting on his lap and playing with her curls she told him that he wasn’t to be sad this time when she went away, that she would be waiting for him and Joanie when it was their turn to cross over to the other place. Joe’s heart tightened as lovingly gazed at the top of her golden head and thought that his child must have been watching some movie on TV as where else could she have conceptualised such an idea.

        Their first dearly beloved child had lived for three years, two months and six days. Joanie and Joe had forgotten this fact as all they concentrated on was the fact that they had her back and after all what else could matter. On the eve of her predecessors death Francesca went to bed and kissed her parents goodnight for one last time.

        The following morning was beautiful. The sun had flooded the house at a very early hour and when Joanie woke she listened to any sound from Francesca’s room that would signal the fact that she was awake. She must be tired she thought, going through a growth spurt, although usually by now she would be pattering into their bed, demanding to be left in the middle where she could hold both their hands before falling into another dreamless sleep. When there was no sound after half an hour Joanie got up and peered into her room. It was un naturally quiet. Her daughter still in her bed failed to respond to her voice and in an instant Joanie knew before she shook the lifeless body that lay there that she was gone, out of reach, dead. Joanie screamed and grabbing the lifeless body in her arms she rushed into her bedroom and lay her daughter at the feet of her husband. All Joe could think of were the words of the vicar who had once said that there is a time to be born and a time to die. They were simply being punished for having transgressed that law.