Ganymede

by Jason Taylor

  “We have taken the necessary tri-fold samples. We will use this genetic data to create your clones. You may each monitor the progress of your clone through a feed we make available in your interface. The clones will be ready for you to bring home in nine months. I look forward to seeing all of you then. From all of us at Ganymede, we thank you for your willingness to donate your genetic code and for your dedication toward raising the first generation of human clones. Because of you, a new chapter in the history of humankind has begun.” She terminated the live-cast and left the mothers to make their way out of the building.

  Jill and Tros had been watching the live-cast from another room, deep in the lab.

  “Do you think it’s a mistake to allow the originals to raise their clones?” Tros asked.

  “Why would it be a mistake?” Jill responded, puzzled.

  “It’s a unique situation. One that has never occurred in the history of humanity. No one has ever had to raise a clone of themselves. We have no idea what kind of psychological ramifications that will have.”

  “That’s true for cloning in general. The entire situation is unique.”

  “I suppose you’re right. But I feel we may be making a mistake on this one. Perhaps we should have used foster parents.”

  “There has been enough resistance to conducting this trial in the first place. If we were to take the clone children from their originals. Well… I’m not sure we could get away with that,” Jill said.

  “I guess you’re right. To be frank, I was beginning to wonder if we would ever get the Ganymede project authorization passed through the Senate. I’ve never seen so many protests. We’re lucky to have a sponsor as powerful as Senator Thompson on our side,” Tros said.

  “Here’s to new horizons,” Jill said, raising her glass of beer. “Cheers.”

  “Cheers to that.”

  Chapter 13

  World Zero: 2082

  It was the happiest day of Julie’s life. There had been some delays, but her baby was going to be delivered to her today. The last ten months had passed so slowly. Looking back on it, she felt as if she’d been holding her breath the entire time. She had put the rest of her life on auto-pilot while she waited.

  It had taken forty-three separate cultures, none growing into more than a few dozen cells, before one of them had finally started growing into a human baby. She had remained glued to her feed as the cells multiplied, and the fetus had grown. She had watched as the organs developed, and as her baby grew tiny hands and feet. She had watched, terrified that something would go wrong, while the scientists recorded her clone’s initial electrical activity, generated an encryption key from the pattern, and then used a viral carrier to update the error-checking DNA in every cell throughout her tiny body. Julie had known that if this step failed, her baby would die. She was already in love. She couldn’t imagine bearing such a devastating loss.

  But it had gone well, and now here she was, ready to meet her baby for the first time in the flesh. She wasn’t the first to pick up her clone; some of the others had been ready earlier. She had watched on the live-cast as Gurata had picked up Suki, and again when Mary had picked up Elizabeth. She had fought back pangs of jealousy and focused instead on feeling happy for these other women. They were all sharing the same path, were they not? Did it matter if some took the first steps earlier than others? What difference did a couple of days make? In the end it made no difference at all, and now it was her time.

  Julie sat in the waiting room, wringing her hands and chewing on her lower lip. It was a nervous habit she had never been able to break. When Dr. Jill Clarence entered the room, Julie stood up, smiling tremulously.

  She’d seen Dr. Clarence in some of the live-casts, but had never met her in person before today. She was tall and slender, brown hair tied back and tucked under her coat. She had long, expressive fingers. Piano-playing fingers, Julie thought. Julie knew her mind was wandering. She was nervous.

  “Can I see my baby now?” Julie asked.

  Dr. Clarence took Julie by the elbow and ushered her through the waiting room door. “Yes, of course, Mrs. Petersen. Will you come with me please?”

  “Is everything ok?” Julie asked, trying to keep the tremor out of her voice.

  “Don’t worry, everything’s fine,” Dr. Clarence replied, smiling back at her reassuringly. “It’s completely natural to have some nerves today.

  All other thoughts were forced out of her head as soon as they entered the nursery. Her little June was laying in her pod, perfect and pink. Julie’s heart burst with love as she leaned forward and picked up her new baby girl.

  World Zero: 2084

  Gurata and Suki were at an indoor park with a group of other two-year-olds and their parents. Gurata still couldn’t shake the sense of miracle that had overtaken her when she’d first laid eyes on Suki. Every day that sense of wonder only grew. Suki looked exactly like Gurata had looked when she was a child. It was like looking at a miniature version of herself, with her straight black hair, round face, and dark, soulful eyes. Late at night when Suki was sleeping, Gurata and her husband would sometimes look at old images of Gurata as a child and compare them with the new ones of Suki. Then they would shake their heads in amazement. How could this be possible? How could humans have gotten so wise and so very powerful that they could create a new life in this miraculous way? Gurata considered herself a religious woman, but she didn’t believe that clones were abominations like some people did. God was good. This was a gift from God. It could be no other way.

  She watched Suki play, a beatific smile on her face. She was such a calm child. A little bubble of peace, surrounded by the whirlwinds of energy that were pouring off all the other children. She sat in a patch of dark, green simul-grass, her chubby legs sticking straight out in front of her as she gnawed at the doll in her mouth. One of the other boys came close and she held the toy out for him to take. She was always interested in sharing, always wanting to connect with the other children. The boy didn’t notice, so Suki stuck the doll back into her mouth, closing her eyes in silent bliss.

  World Zero: 2085

  Mary and Elizabeth were working on the alphabet. She was three years old and making fast progress. Mary wasn’t surprised. She’d been a quick learner in her youth too.

  “Excellent, Elizabeth. What comes after W?”

  “X, Mommy,” Elizabeth cooed, her eyes wide, entranced by the picture-book.

  Mary believed in using real books at this age. Elizabeth would have the rest of her life to look at virtual objects and to practice using her interface. Now was the time to engage with the real world.

  “Mommy?”

  “Yes, Elizabeth?”

  “Am I a real person?”

  “Of course you are! Why would you say that?” Mary felt angry, but she tried not to let it show. Elizabeth was sensitive and she didn’t want her to think she was in trouble.

  “Some of the other kids teased me.”

  “What did they say to you, Elizabeth?”

  “They call me a copy.” Elizabeth stopped and thought. “Jenny says I’m a fake. Some of the other boys call me zombie-girl.”

  “Oh darling, they don’t know what they are talking about. You’re just as human as anybody. Don’t let anyone ever tell you otherwise.”

  “I won’t, Mommy.” Elizabeth hesitated a moment before adding, “Mommy, I said some really mean things to them. But I know they deserved it.” Elizabeth looked back down at the book, her eyes intent on the pictures. “Mommy, were there really horses with stripes when you were a little girl?”

  “Yes, darling,” Mary said, distracted and troubled. “They were called zebras.”

  World Zero: 2087

  Julie was so happy. So very happy. That’s what she told herself. But actually, she was anxious. So very anxious. June was fine. She was more than ordinarily beautiful, with her olive brown skin and bright blue eyes. And the doctors at the lab said she was developing entirely normally. There was nothing wrong. Bu
t that didn’t do anything to make the sick feeling of dread go away. Julie spent her nights tossing and turning, unnamed fears twisting in the night. She spent her days glazed and absentminded. She had already used her interface to push her blood chemistry as far as it would go, trying to feel normal again, but it was never enough. She’d thought about black-market modifications for her implant but had pushed the idea aside. It wouldn’t help June if her mother was in jail or mind-shredded.

  Today was a big day. It was June’s first day of school. Julie told herself this was the reason she was feeling anxious. It was the first time they would be separated for more than a couple of hours.

  Like most people, they were within walking distance of their designated school location. She and June were walking through the pedestrian tube, enjoying the beautiful fall leaves that were projected on the inside.

  “Ooh, look at that one Mom. That’s the biggest leaf I’ve ever seen,” June shouted. She ran forward, triggered her interface, and pulled the leaf from the wall into her hand. She held it up, making it sparkle, then flash into a variety of colors. “Mom, look at that. Isn’t it pretty?”

  Julie suppressed a shudder. June was unnaturally skilled with her interface,, better than most adults. If Julie was honest with herself, she would have to admit that June was better with her interface than any adult she had ever met. Any adult she had ever heard of. Pulling the leaf from the wall was impressive enough for a small child, but how was she changing its colors?

  Meanwhile, June had turned the leaf into a butterfly and was chasing it around the tube. “Mom, look! Mom, look! I can catch the butterfly.” She held her hand out, and the butterfly landed gracefully on her palm.

  Julie looked around to see if anyone had noticed. Whatever June was doing, it was unnatural, and the last thing she wanted was to attract unwanted attention. “Come on, June. We need to go, or we’ll be late.” She grabbed June’s arm and started pulling.

  “Wait, Mom. No! I need to put him back. He might get hurt!” June yanked her arm away and ran back to the wall of the tube, depositing the butterfly gently on a bush swaying in a light breeze. The butterfly folded its wings and hunkered down to wait out the wind. June smiled, nodded once in satisfaction, and then ran ahead of her mom toward school.

  Julie’s nerves were about June’s first day of school, right? Nothing else was wrong. Nothing else was wrong.

  World Zero: 2088

  Mary lay at the bottom of the stairs bleeding, Elizabeth by her side. Elizabeth was touching the end of the chopstick, pushing it back and forth, prodding it like it was a science experiment. She put her finger in the blood pooling on the floor and held it to her nose. Then she touched it to her tongue, grimacing at the strong taste of iron.

  “Mother, you taste bad,” she said

  Grandma clamped her mouth shut and backed slowly out the door. She was looking at Elizabeth like she was a wild animal. Or a monster. Her face was a rictus of fear, her footsteps slow and quiet.

  Elizabeth looked up. “Gamma, would you taste Mother too? Can you tell me why she tastes so bad?”

  Grandma turned and ran.

  Chapter 14

  Jill sat next to Mary’s hospital bed, holding tightly onto her friend’s hand. She’d come hours ago, as soon as she’d heard what had happened, and she hadn’t left Mary’s side since. Jill felt responsible for what had happened. It was obvious that something had gone horribly wrong with Elizabeth.

  “Where am I? Where’s my Elizabeth?” Mary asked, her voice slurring.

  Mary’s words jolted Jill out of a half-sleep she’d been in for she didn’t know how long.

  “Oh Mary, I’m so sorry.” Jill blinked away a tear, brushing at it angrily with the back of her hand.

  Before Mary had moved out, into her own house, they had lived together in the apartment building for years, sharing in the co-op, gossiping in the common-room, sharing their meals together. Jill had been so happy she could offer Mary the opportunity to have a daughter through the cloning program, knowing that all the fertility treatments she’d tried had failed. Now look where it had taken them.

  Mary tried to sit up. “Where’s Elizabeth? Is she ok?”

  Jill put her hand on Mary’s shoulder, encouraging her to lay back down. “Mary, you shouldn’t be moving yet. You’ve been badly hurt.” Jill could see Mary grappling with that. Trying to remember. Then she saw the realization of what had happened hit her hard.

  Mary’s face crumpled. “Why did she do it, Jill? What’s wrong with my Elizabeth?”

  Jill bent forward until her forehead touched Mary’s, and then she let the sobs take her too.

  Elizabeth was in a strange room. All the walls were soft. The floor was soft. Even the ceiling was soft. She triggered her interface and reached out, trying to sense a connection. There was nothing. She let her interface fade. She blinked. She swallowed. She thought.

  Tros watched Elizabeth in her cell, from the control room. Her hand was on the back of a chair currently occupied by a young security officer. He was so green, Tros could almost smell the Academy on him. But he seemed like a good kid, trustworthy and level-headed.

  “Have there been any changes in her behavior?” Tros asked.

  “Nothing yet, Ma’am.”

  “Remarkable! She’s been immobile for the past eight hours?”

  “Yes, Ma’am.”

  “That is not normal behavior for a seven-year-old.”

  “Neither is stabbing your mother. With all due respect, Ma’am.”

  “No, I suppose not.”

  Elizabeth stood up and cocked her head. She could sense something. There was a feed in the room. She could feel it sucking up data-bits and sending them away. She turned a little right, a little left, cocked her head and tried to isolate the location of that feeling.

  Tros watched in fascination as Elizabeth rose languidly to her feet, her movements unnaturally smooth. It gave Tros the chills. Elizabeth moved her head like she was sniffing at the air, then she looked directly into the feed, her eyes seeming to lock onto Tros. It was impossible, but Tros could swear she saw a hint of recognition in those eyes, like she knew that a video feed originated from that exact point inside her cell.

  Elizabeth walked closer until the monitor was completely filled with her face. Then she smiled, teeth glistening. The smile did not reach her eyes. Tros felt her blood go cold. Whatever was in that room, it didn’t seem human. She could feel the lizard part of her brain running in circles and gibbering. Telling her it was time to run, get the hell out before things got worse.

  The security officer’s skin had a grayish cast. His mouth was open, and he was gaping at the screen. Tros watched him pull himself together.

  Good kid.

  “Ma’am, what do you think we should do?”

  “Nothing son. Carry on. Let me know if anything else changes.”

  On the screen, Elizabeth was casually picking at her teeth with a fingernail. She was still staring straight out of the monitor and she hadn’t broken eye contact with them. Tros had more to say but dared not voice it.

  I’ve no idea, son. We’ve sailed off the map and into the unknown. Here there be dragons.

  The drugs had worn off, and Mary was fully awake. The wound had been closed with sealant and was starting to heal due to a judicious application of growth stimulant. The chopstick had gone deep, puncturing the top of her lung, but it hadn’t hit anything else vital.

  “Jill, why did she stab me?”

  “I don’t know. That’s the honest truth. It could be a side effect of the cloning process. Something we missed. Or it could be natural personality defect. Sometimes people turn out wrong. We don’t always know why.”

  “She’s supposed to be an exact copy of me. How could she do this? I would never stab anyone. I can’t imagine ever wanting to hurt anyone, especially not my mother.”

  “I know. We have our best people working on it. We’ll figure it out.”

  “What about Elizabeth? Is she going
to be ok? I want to see my little girl.”

  “I’ll see what I can do. But it might take some time. It’s not a good idea for you to see her right now. She’s safe, you have my word on that, and we are taking good care of her. You need to focus on healing yourself now.”

  Jill left Mary’s room and found an empty room she could use to meet with Tros. She closed the door, checked to ensure a sound-wall was in place, and triggered her interface. When she closed her eyes, she found herself in a simulacrum of a conference room from the lab. It was a setting they were both comfortable in. Tros was already there, sitting at the table, looking troubled.

  “What’s wrong?” Jill asked, sitting across from her.

  “Elizabeth’s behavior is puzzling. She spent most of the day motionless in her cell. Then about an hour ago she gave us reason to believe that she knows about the monitor feed.”

  “That’s not so surprising, is it? It seems natural she would assume we are watching her.”

  “For a seven-year-old?” Tros asked.

  “Ok, yeah. That’s weird,” Jill admitted.

  “That’s not all. We think she knows where the video-feed is originating from. She walked directly to the aperture and appeared to be looking through it.”

  “How could she possibly know where the aperture is? Could it be a coincidence? The cell isn’t very big.”

  “That would be my first assumption too, but I was there Jill. She searched the feed out, and then she walked directly to it. She’s been staring through it ever since. Tom is in the security office monitoring her. I think he’s close to a breakdown.”

  While they talked, Elizabeth was in her cell, toying with the feed. She teased individual bits out, flipped the ones and zeros, and then pushed them back in again. It gave her something to do.

  “Hold on,” Tros said. “Something’s happening.”