CHAPTER EIGHT
"Cloning will enable mankind to reach eternal life." - Claude Vorilhon
Kieran's eyes had healed in the six weeks following the accident. She had new eyes, provided by her genetic double, her clone, kept hidden away her and all other Shadows in secret vaults. When she looked in the mirror, she saw no scars, but a clone's dead eyes with no sparkle. They haven't life enough to sparkle, she thought.
"What do you think?" The man in the white coat was pleasant enough.
"What?" She was obviously not in that moment.
"Your eyes are healing nicely." The cloning technician examined the medical chart at the end of her bed. "As functional as before," he said. "Maybe better."
"How so?"
So intent was he on reading her chart, he hardly noticed her question. "Hmmm... Oh, I'm sorry. Visual acuity, that is."
She looked at him blankly.
"No eyestrain or pain?"
"Not that I can tell." She should have been happy, relieved, but she wasn't.
"Is there a problem?"
"Nothing you can fix."
"I'm afraid I don't understand."
"The eyes have no sparkle."
"Oh, I see now. You don't feel your clone's eyes are good enough." Suddenly, she had the technician's attention.
"No, that's not it exactly."
"Your clone is preserved in a vault, hidden from Makr. It resembles you in every detail, except for your brain that continues to evolve while your clone's brain doesn't. Unfortunately, your eyes are really a part of the brain so until they truly becomes a part of you, the 'sparkle' will have to be in the eye of the beholder, if you'll pardon the cliché."
"Why is the clone's brain not allowed to evolve?"
"It's not so much that it's not allowed to evolve, it doesn't have access to experiences that shape the human mind; it is the experiences and connection to its environment that are left out."
"And if they aren't left out."
"I don't see how... I suppose, theoretically, you would be creating another sentient, living being, a total clone and that's not...well, it's just not done. Quite frankly, I think it would scare the hell out of people bumping into themselves." He laughed, but the laugh seemed lost on Kieran.
"You mean you couldn't control them, but this way you can?"
"I see my delightful bedside manner isn't going to appease you, so here it is: Control is only part of it. If we allowed the brain the opportunity to develop a mind, we'd have to accept that body as a sentient being and we can't harvest the parts we need from sentient beings. That's murder. That's why we can't allow brain function to grow beyond what's necessary to maintain the vital organs that might be needed."
"What happens to my clone now?"
"Nothing. We keep her on ice, so to speak, with life support. Oh, we'll probably grow another clone for you when the time is right just in case you need new organs again. Maybe when you're eighty."
"You can do that?"
"Yes, but it's not easy growing a clone. Your clone ages as you do. Of course, your clone is younger, but if you were a child, say of ten, there wouldn't have been one for you; we hadn't managed the process yet. You should be proud. Your ancestors will have it better when they have your clones as well as theirs for spare parts."
"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to offend."
He shrugged and put on his pleasant face. "As much as we might like to live forever, we can't grow more than two clones per person in a lifetime. Can't manufacture our own parts as fast as the machines," he said with a force smile. "In some ways, it's a good thing."
"Does anybody really live to be eighty anymore?"
"Some do, mostly Insiders. I don't think Makr bothers with this technology; His Cyber already know how to maximize usefulness. But without cloning, even Makr can't keep Bio parts from eventually wearing out, even with genetic engineering. Out here, we're on our own. Lucky to make sixty Outside. Too many mechanical hazards to get in the way, but I guess you'd know that better than I. You know, being a soldier and all."
"Not anymore."
"Quitting? Lot of that going around?"
"Well, I've done enough..."
"I'm sure you have. Now, if you'll excuse me...I have other patients to attend to."
As the door closed, "I have done enough," she muttered. "I have," she stated emphatically more to convince herself than the technician who has already left.
The door immediately reopens and the technician poked his head in.
"Do you know I've heard the children sing your praises around the Shadow hearths? I've also heard most of them praying to their various gods that you'll be healed. A few even prayed to Makr. Habits die hard," he chuckled softly.
"I thought you might like to know."
She had always enjoyed the children singing heroic ballads about the soldiers. It was for the children that she fought Cyber. For their future.
"My daughter has decided she wants to be a soldier when she's old enough," he said as he eased back in the room. Suddenly he didn't seem so busy.
"Talk her out of it."
"Can't. She's stubborn. When she makes her mind..."
"Maybe we won't have to fight then. Maybe it'll all be over..."
"She'll be old enough next year. I suspect she's a lot like you were at her age. It would be nice if she had someone like you to lead her and keep her from harm."
"I suppose that's every parent's wish. To keep their children safe."
"I just thought you should know she thinks you're 'the best,' as she puts it." He turned and goes out for a second time.
"I'm not going back," she muttered. This time it seemed as though she was waiting for someone to come in again. "I won't go back. I won't."
.
She had no reason to leave the clinic so she used the excuse that she couldn't see properly. Images mixed up, blurred vision at times. That was common with some patients who had received cloned eyes; it was if the eyes had genetic memory, too, and the brain had to reconcile the new connection to the outside world of images with those it stored. Maybe so, the eyes are part of the brain system after all. So, she had her respite from society, her Shadows. She could keep them at bay for a while longer. In a few days, she had a visitor she couldn't refuse to see.
Carlos had told her he'd come to see her the minute he was back from the mission. She knew he means it, but this was just something she had to do by herself.
"Tell me, Carlos. Am I the first or second person you've seen this day?"
"Second, I'm afraid. Had to report in first. Mother..."
"I know. I'm glad to be second in that case."
"You aren't second in my book."
"Thanks." She tried to smile, but something weighed heavily on her mind. "Are we ever going to get better—the human race, I mean?"
"Wow, big question. We have to hope. When we can't hope, we die. All of us."
"Is that why you sent me home with Leach?"
He shook his head. "You needed another focus."
She smiled, knowing he's right. "I would have killed the worthless worm if my eyes..."
Carlos laughed. "I know you would. You broke his nose, you know."
That almost made her smile.
"Thanks for believing in me." There was melancholy in her voice and in her eyes which seemed disconnected, lifeless.
"You are coming back to us, right?" Carlos asked sincerely.
Kieran's sardonic smile and shrug said she didn't know yet, but she also didn't want to talk about it either. Instead, she turned to him. "What's happened to you, Carlos? You've never lied to me before. Where have you been since the raid? Why haven't you come to see me sooner? I know you came back weeks ago."
She was genuinely concerned about her friend. And any talking she did took her mind off her own self-pity. She knew the rumor she heard can't have been true. Carlos would never choose to relocate to another part of the city. There had to be something else happening.
"I have a new place, another Nest, de
ep underground on the east side. I've been there. It's safe as any of us can be these days." He smiles at the irony. "Even with a cybert factory directly above us, we're sealed in with the Shadows."
She couldn't hide her concern from her old friend. Something wasn't right.
"There's not a Bio stranger or Cyber for a mile or two who can reach us through our access routes," he said, "so hopefully, it will be a good long time before Cyber security investigates the Shadows below."
"Why did you go, Carlos?"
"It was time I left Mother's Nest."
"I know that's what everyone says, but it's not like you to go so...so suddenly. I take it Mother-General was very upset about Ramón."
"I don't blame her. I should have said 'no' to him. Shouldn't have let him run. I just wasn't strong enough."
"Don't say that. You are the strong one. Stronger than any of us. You shouldn't have to leave." Oops. She wasn't supposed to know he was 'asked' to leave.
Carlos frowned. Maybe it's best she knows. He shook it off and smiled, "It would have happened sooner or later."
"Did you fight her?"
"What? No, of course not."
"Think she's right?"
"No," he sighed uncomfortably. "But she could be. I don't know. Too much is at stake."
"Carlos, she's not the only one who can strategize and execute a plan." That much was true.
"That's right," he said slyly, "you're pretty good at that yourself. The best, in fact." That wasn't what she meant.
He had always thought she was the strong one, and he'd have said the same thing to her if their roles were reversed. He admired her calm. Some said she was cold, but he knew her emotional distance was very necessary for her own survival. She had always been unruffled and in control—even when the laser ax exploded. She took that calmly, too. But now...her true underside was showing.
"Why don't you take a few extra days off," he said finally. "Relax for a while after you get out of here. Let us take on the cyberts, not Mother, for now. Take care of yourself. We need you."
"Like holes in the head."
Huh? Carlos didn't get it, so Kieran smiled and pointed to her eyes.
"Nice to see you smile again."
"We have to get over this self-pity," she said. "Both of us."
"I uh...have to leave now." Nervously, he went over to her and gently kissed her newly grown eyelashes. She turned away before he can see her eyes glistening with the teary happiness of being close to someone who knows the best part of you.
The rest was an old story, but Carlos felt it worth repeating at times like this. "You know, people are dying every day and not of old age or accidents, but machine executions. We still have to find the way to kill the machines. Makr, really."
"I thought we were already doing that—bit by bit."
"Well, in 35 years all we've managed to do so far is annoy Him. Look, you just get better. I have something of a plan, but nothing will go forth without you. Will you transfer to my Nest? Be my...my lieutenant? My operations officer?"
"I don't know." Pause. "What about Greg?"
"He's staying here. He has a new job." He paused for a sec... "My old one," he added sardonically.
"Sorry."
"Don't be. He's perfect for it. With his knack for learning technology, he's a perfect weapons finder, too. Maybe he'll find a way to kill them all without us. Besides, I have my own Nest to look after in the shadows." He paused to change the subject, then, "They are good people, Kieran. Take the promotion and transfer. We need you."
"I'm not sure I'm up to it, Carlos. If it's important, don't wait for me."
"You've got it all wrong. Without you it won't work."
"Now I know you're feeding my ego."
"Maybe. But you are very good at your job, and we need you. I need you."
Maybe, just for you, Carlos, she admitted to herself.
"Meanwhile—hang in there."
"Hang in there yourself, Carlos," she said. "Mother-General needs her son as much as we need the best soldiers on this planet."
"Then you'll take the job?"
"I don't know. Let me think about it, okay?"