by Suzanne Weyn
She had made peace with the idea of being a clone. It was really no stranger than being a twin — or a sextuplet. She wouldn’t be the first person on earth to have to deal with that.
Being transgenic, part bird, was a bit more complex. What did it mean for her future health? In the last week of December, she phoned Dr. Sarah Alan’s office in New York, DOC headquarters. Dr. Alan herself picked up the phone, and when Kayla gave her name she was met with silence on the other end. “Excuse me,” the doctor spoke after a moment, “but I thought you were … I thought I read in the paper that you …”
“I’m not dead,” Kayla said. “That wasn’t me. It was a clone.”
“A clone,” Dr. Alan echoed. “My mother phoned and told me all about you before she and Dad died. They were very fond of you. Are you all right?”
“I think so,” Kayla said. “But I have serious things I’d like to talk to you about. May I make an appointment for myself and my … sister? She’s a clone, too.”
Kayla didn’t feel a compelling responsibility toward Kendra, Kara, or Kass. But KM-6 was different.
KM-6 had saved the world — in a way.
She’d also saved Kayla’s life — probably.
KM-6 made Kayla think of the black-capped chickadee she’d brought back to life that day in the Adirondacks. She wondered now if she could do as much for KM-6. She was willing to try, anyway.
“Bring her in to see me,” Dr. Alan said. “I’ll have a few of my associates available, and we’ll figure out what you both need. Make an appointment for sometime in early January.”
Dusa came into Allyson’s apartment on New Year’s Day, a bit weary from the hearty party to bring in 2026 that they’d attended at Artie’s place, but ready to make the trip back east as planned. “Now that I don’t have to be scary anymore, I’m going back to my real name,” she announced. “I’ll join the K club as an honorary member.”
“We don’t have a Katie,” Kayla said. “Join the club.”
KM-6 was sitting by the window, staring out. The long dark hair they’d brushed to a shine for her gleamed in the sunlight. With better clothing and grooming, her resemblance to Kayla was more obvious, but she still seemed frail, birdlike.
“Speaking of the K club,” Katie said, crossing to KM-6, “you have a family now, kiddo. And I think you need a better name than KM-6. Do you like Karen?”
KM-6 looked up at her. For the first time they’d seen, she smiled.
“Okay!” Katie said, returning the smile. “Karen it is!”
Mfumbe came out of the bathroom and wished everyone a happy new year. From the moment Jack shut down the nanobots, his recovery had been rapid. Occasionally, he felt pain where he’d been injured in the Washington beating, but mostly he was better.
The moment Kayla had seen him again she knew her love for him was as strong as it had ever been. They’d decided to go to Washington, DC, to work on the David Young presidential campaign. After that, Mfumbe wanted to apply to college. He’d once been offered a scholarship he couldn’t take because he had no bar code. Now that the bar code was no longer required, maybe the scholarship would still be available.
Kayla didn’t know what she’d do. She was still wanted by the police. Mfumbe was, too, for assaulting Zekeal during the raid last summer. But the G-1 police were under intense scrutiny, and she’d heard that cases involving infractions of bar code tattoo policy were being dropped or simply forgotten. She knew they didn’t really think she’d burned down her house or been responsible for her mother’s death. They had simply wanted a reason to bring her in. It was likely that all the charges against her would simply go away.
They were just about packed and ready to leave when Allyson and Jack came in. “We’ve made a decision,” Allyson announced, beaming with pleasure.
“You’re getting married,” Katie guessed.
“Worse,” Jack told her, also clearly happy. “We’re incorporating!”
“What?” Kayla asked.
Allyson sat at the kitchen table. “We talked about it all last night. The swing-lo works. It just needs to be made to look more sleek, more attractive. We want to go into business and be one of the first companies out there with it. We met these guys who invest in startup companies last night at the party, and they’re really interested in funding us.”
Kayla hugged Allyson. “That’s so exciting!”
“When you get big, you might need private trucking to deliver the swing-los,” Katie mentioned.
“Absolutely,” Jack agreed.
“Kayla, I love your art,” Allyson said. “Could you start working on a company logo for us?”
“Sure.”
“If this company is a success, we want you to be our art director,” Allyson added.
“That would be so final level,” Kayla said, excited at the idea. She immediately envisioned a drawing of the swing-lo flying beside … a bird. Maybe a whole flock of birds.
She suddenly remembered the first stanza of a poem Mfumbe had recently read to her from the slim volume of poetry he’d been carrying around. It was called “Hope” and was by Emily Dickinson:
Hope is the thing with feathers
That perches in the soul
And sings the tune without the words
And never stops at all.
For the first time in a year, Kayla saw her possibilities as limitless. And she was filled with new hope.
Suzanne Weyn thanks and deeply appreciates these people for sharing with her their great ideas, insights, and most especially their interest in this book, this story so close to her heart: Tisha Hamilton, Greg Holch, David Levithan, Robert Maloney, David M. Young (the real one), Karen Weise, and Ted Weyn. (Thanks, Dad, for the recommended related readings.)
The Bar Code Tattoo
The Bar Code Prophecy
Reincarnation
Distant Waves: A Novel of the Titanic
Empty
The Invisible World: A Novel of the Salem Witch Trials
Copyright © 2006 by Suzanne Weyn. All rights reserved. Published by Scholastic Inc. SCHOLASTIC and associated logos are trademarks and/or registered trademarks of Scholastic Inc.
This edition first printing, October 2012
Cover art by Jonathan Barkat / Cover design by Steve Scott
e-ISBN 978-0-545-47283-8
All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. No part of this publication may be reproduced, transmitted, downloaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereafter invented, without the express written permission of the publisher. For information regarding permission, write to Scholastic Inc., Attention: Permissions Department, 557 Broadway, New York, NY 10012.
Table of Contents
Title Page
Epigraph
Prelude
Part 1
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Part 2
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Part 3
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Part 4
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Epilogue
Acknowledgments
Also by Suzanne Weyn
Copyright
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