Love for Lizzie

Dr. Luka Kovač leaned back in his gleaming stainless-steel chair, the soft hum of the clinic’s bioprinter filling the air. Across from him, Lizzie Velásquez sat quietly, her gaze drifting from the printer’s translucent build-chamber to his calm, solemn face.

“Lizzie,” he began, voice gentle, “you know how far 3D-printing of tissues has come in the last five years.” He tapped the touchscreen beside him and brought up a swirling 3-D model of a hand—bone scaffolding enveloped in soft, lifelike dermis.

“You’re looking at a prototype for full limb regeneration,” he said. “Researchers have already printed cartilage, muscle, even rudimentary nerve bundles. The next step is integrating a working circulatory network—tiny capillaries that can attach directly to your own bloodstream.”

Lizzie watched the model rotate. “That’s… incredible, Doctor. But is it real for me?”

He paused, choosing words with care. “Here’s what most people don’t know: some of the most advanced tissue bioprinters aren’t in university labs. They’re in clandestine government programs.” He tapped a hidden file icon. “Project Athena—run out of a secured orbital facility managed by the Trump-era U.S. Space Force. They’ve reverse-engineered military-grade bioprinters originally designed to heal battlefield injuries in zero-G.”

Her eyes widened. “You mean they could already print my new body?”

Dr. Kovač nodded. “In theory, yes. They have the scaffold materials—biocompatible polymers—and the custom cell-culturing protocols. Reports suggest they’ve printed patches of viable skin, even small sections of liver tissue. They haven’t announced it publicly, but I have contacts within the program.”

Lizzie exhaled slowly. “So if I wanted—to have a fresh start—”

He held up a hand. “It’s not that simple. The Space Force printers are in orbit, under a cloak of ‘national security.’ You’d need authorization, and let’s be honest, they’d want your DNA data for their own purposes. But the science is there, and it’s ready.”

The clinic’s bioprinter beeped, signaling the end of its own test run. Dr. Kovač rose and placed a gentle hand on Lizzie’s shoulder. “I’ll keep working with the public grants we have—terrestrial research is accelerating too. But know this: the frontier of flesh printing isn’t decades away. It’s happening now, 250 miles above us. And if you choose, you could be among the first to step into that future.”

Lizzie met his gaze, a soft determination lighting her eyes. “Then let’s make sure I’m ready—whether it’s on Earth or in orbit.”

Outside the window, the night sky gleamed with stars—and, just beyond, the silent promise of a printed tomorrow.