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Chapter Sixteen

The Clone Master

Everyone except Nicole avoided the laboratory, preferring any chore: tending the garden and green house plants, sweeping the floors, window washing, even cleaning the toilets, rather than performing tasks at that creepy place. The timid and unbalanced Nicole, however, had found her niche. She would prove to be a perfect nanny. No task was too grimy or smelly for her. Already, to the great satisfaction of Sandra and Woody, she had learned how to read the life-support systems for each of the synthetic wombs, understood the correct levels of intravenous food and amniotic fluids for each of her patients, and was able to quickly enter daily reports on each of the one hundred units now in operation. Seeing the lack of enthusiasm from the other humans and, in the case of Ingrid and Carla, a negative attitude about the whole process, Sandra, perhaps out of spite, made Nicole the manager of the lab. She was now the Clone Master, a title that would one day make her a legend among the human race.

At this early stage, however, she was a nuisance to the other stellarnauts, who considered her a shirker, too cowardly to be a proper stellarnaut and join the others in the exploration of the new world. Nicole, of course, properly understood their most important duty now: the maintenance, preservation, and nurturing of humanity, a role that, in her way of thinking, gave her almost god-like powers. In this matter and her interpretation of her role, after considering Ingrid her mentor for so long, she became a heretic, not merely in Ingrid’s mind, but in all seven of her fellow humans’ thinking. Yet this didn’t bother Nicole, because she had the support of the androids, who had elevated her above the others. She now, as the chief nanny, wore a special uniform provided by Sandra with the title ‘Clone Master’ printed on the back and chest of her apron.

One day, when everyone had finished their chores, they were invited to visit the laboratory, this time on a guided tour, rather than as merely janitors and sweepers. So far, with few and begrudging exceptions, they had avoided this dreadful business. Today, though, as Skip put it succinctly from the bridge, this nonsense would stop.

Playing on Abe Drexel’s military pride, he murmured discreetly from his wrist communicator, “Captain, take control of your crew. Set an example. The clones are why you people are here!”

“Don’t let him talk to you like that!” whispered Sheila. “You’re our leader, not him!”

“If that were only true!” he whispered back, after giving her hand a squeeze. “Everyone!” he called out, “Sandra and Woody worked very hard preparing the lab. Nicole is now the supervisor. Let’s show her some respect.”

As the others continued to drag their feet, still holding Sheila’s hand, Abe followed Nicole into the lab. Giving Nicole no more credit than possible, he avoided her wide, unblinking blue eyes. Her effort to lord it over them, though it struck the others as a non-starter, was encouraged by Sandra, Woody, and Skip. It was, in fact, sanctioned. In her role as Clone Master, Abe’s first impression, as she grinned, tilted her hands, and clasped her hands with delight, was that she was somewhat deranged. But was she actually mad? For quite some time, he had thought the experience of hibernation and planetary exploration had damaged Nicole. Now, after being given such a great purpose, her exuberance might just as easily be translated as confidence and self-assurance. Max would admit later that it was an improvement over the emotionally shattered creature she had been before, but Abe wasn’t so sure.

Soon, after getting used to her fluttery mannerism, his attention was, like that of the others, drawn almost completely to the clones. In the injection chambers, where, Nicole explained joyously, conception occurred, Sandra or Woody would inject the male cell into the female egg to create a fertilized egg. Chattering non-stop about the special equipment, magnified by a microscope, as each of them peered through the lens, Nicole likened the injector to a male penis and the incision to conjugation. “The whole process makes it almost a natural thing!” She clapped her hands.

“Ho ho!” Said giggled. “Doesn’t look like a dick to me!”

“Ugh!” Sheila made a face. “That’s disgusting!”

“She’s right, Nicole.” Ingrid shuddered. “There’s nothing natural about this. Those are one celled organisms, not people. Where’s the sex in that?”

“It’s the conjugation of male and female cells,” Nicole insisted. “By definition that’s sex. When you looked through the microscope you were seeing the future. From our bodies, they’ll grow and perpetuate the human race!”

“That’s like putting lipstick on a pig!” Carla sneered.

“They’re not humans,” grumbled Ingrid. “They’re clones!”

After taking his turn at the microscope, Mbuto shook his head. “I read a story like this. In that story the clones are bad news—mutants with a thirst for blood. What’s to stop these clones from mutating and killing us all?”

“Shut-the-hill-up!” Carla thumped his head.

“Mbuto was joking.” Abe frowned at him. “Right Mbuto?”

“Right,” Mbuto nodded obligingly. “…. A science fiction thriller—nothing more!”

To her credit, unfazed by the outbursts, Nicole moved on to the next stage. Four of the stages, she stopped to explain, were already present in the lab, the first one hundred samples roughly divided into (1) the injection stage; (2) fertilized egg stage; (3) the embryo stage, and (4) the fetus stage. Now, with the injection or, Nicole liked to call the conjugation phase, behind them, she led them to row and row of tiny embryos, attached to synthetic umbilical chords, inside their synthetic wombs. This caused even more shudders than the last stage. As they looked down into a great tank that resembled a huge aquarium, all seven listeners gasped.

Ingrid recoiled. “What in God’s name is that?”

“Looks like a witches brew!” Carla cackled.

Unruffled, Nicole reached her hand in playfully as if to stir the pot. “After injection,” she continued tutorially, “we place fertilized eggs in this chamber. Chemicals similar to those produced during pregnancy are added, electricity is applied, and, when some of the eggs become viable, they’re transferred to the wombs.”

As they looked across the room at row upon row of jars with tubes running in and out of them, Mbuto grinned with mirth this time. Carla broke into hysterical giggles.

“It’s like a mad scientists lab!” he whispered in her ear.

“Un-be-liev-able!” She drawled.

“Here are the fetuses.” Nicole lovingly hugged one jar. “Look at that little fellow. Isn’t he cute?”

“He’s a monster!” Ingrid said stubbornly.

“Would you rather become extinct?” Sandra’s voice cut across the room.

“What is the success rate of these little tadpoles?” Said suppressed a laugh.

“Ninety/Ten,” Woody glared at him, “and they’re not tadpoles or monsters. They’re human beings like you.”

“Oh I beg the difference with you,” Said replied airily. “My mother gave birth to me. It damn near killed the poor woman.”

“That’ll be enough this.” Abe tapped Ingrid and Said’s shoulders. “Sandra.” He turned to her. “If I remember correctly back on Earth, that ratio of deaths would be quite high.”

“We don’t use the word death,” Skip’s voice rang over the laboratory speaker. “We use the word viable or non-viable. For cloning this is actually quite good.”

“It’s like the voice of God.” Max looked up at the speaker. “He’s everywhere now—even in the lab!”

For a few moments the spectators mulled uneasily in the cloning sector of the lab, as Sandra and Wood took Nicole aside and gave her instructions. When she returned, grinning happily, her eyes rolling crazily in her head, Max turned to Abe, a look of concern on his face.

“She’s quite bonkers!” he whispered, as she walked passed.

“Or possessed!” Ingrid murmured aloud.

“Our next phase,” Nicole declared with great pride, “after nine weeks of being an embryo, which back on Earth was called the trimester, is the fetal period—my special project now. There are, as you can see, different stages of this important period, ranging from nine weeks up to actual birth. Until we build more large wombs, it was necessary to keep many of your specimens in limbo. The first row of jars are the nine week fetuses. The next row are the sixteen week fetuses, and much closer to birth are those clones in the twenty-five week range. Normally, full term infants are born between thirty-six and forty weeks. Because of the accelerated rate of births in this process, however, we could have our first batch of newborns within the next two to three weeks.”

“What?” Abe exclaimed. “That soon?”

“Yes, that’s our estimation.” Nicole nodded with a grin.

“Looks like your nanny days will soon be here,” Said teased Carla.

“Oh contraire!” Nicole wagged her finger. “I was just told by Sandra and Woody that everyone—the captain included—will share in this chore.”

“Bull shit!” Said folded his arms. “I won’t do it!”

“Me neither!” Mbuto set his jaw. “That’s women’s work!”

“Oh really?” Carla stomped her foot. “I’m a lesbian. If I had my way I would’ve been born a man—a real man, not a wimp, like you two. Gender has nothing to do with it. I don’t even like kids!”

“Come on people.” Abe came forehead, waving his hands. “Let’s not have a mutiny. We all have to pitch in!”

“I agree with her, captain,” Ingrid protested, “but I’ll go one step further. None of us should have to be nannies to these monstrosities. The andies created them. Let them do this chore!”

“Silence!” Skip roared from the speaker. “Your race faces extinction if this doesn’t succeed. If you don’t like the word nanny, call yourselves caretakers, as we have been through the millenniums. You will all watch over and protect these children. When you finally meet your God, they will watch over a future generation. This is just the beginning. Like it or not, you are Nicole’s assistants while in the lab. Outside, during normal business, your captain is in charge, but in here she is the Clone Master. She has earned this role!”

Again, the humans felt intimidated. It was as if Skip had divine powers now. A feeling of rebellion grew in the ranks, which was a feeling Abe, himself, shared.

******

After listening to Nicole elaborate on the various, gauges, pumps, and containers filling the clone lab and being dismissed like school children when she was done, the humans reconvened at a far corner of the field to air their feelings.

“I think it’s outrageous they placed that loon over us!” Carla exclaimed angrily.

“Yes, I agree, but keep it down!” Abe clamped his hand over her mouth. “You have to control yourselves too.” He looked around at Ingrid, Mbuto, and Said. “We’d be screwed, if they packed up and left!” he added, pointing up in the direction of the ship and space station. “Unfortunately, we’re in no position to rebel against them. They’ve protected us for through the millenniums. We’re not ready to be cut loose and be on our own, and they know it!”

“They wouldn’t leave, would they?” Max frowned.

“I’m afraid so.” Abe glance back a the lab. “If there’s an insurrection, they just might. All of our theories of android behavior have been wrong. I continue to see genuine emotion in them, especially Skip. That fellow was genuinely pissed just now. Let’s not forget what we’ve read about our caretakers. Even Sandra has the strength of three men. Can you imagine what Skip could do to one of us?”

“You’re the captain of the Phoenix,” Sheila reminded him, “not that robot. He’s not supposed to be in command!’

Abe nodded his head and leaned forward and kissed her cheek. “It’s true, my love,” he whispered. “….It’s always been true!”

Said, the robotologist, who understood the capabilities of the androids more than anyone in the group now summed up his feelings.

“I once resented them,” he said thoughtfully, looking back at the lab. “…. I hated the control they had over our lives. After four savage world and one hundred thousand years of the dark sleep, though, I came to my senses. Because of what happened on Earth, Skip is in command. This is true for all the caretakers. What would have happened to us while we slept, if Sandra and Woody hadn’t watched over us. Where would we be if Rusty hadn’t piloted us to the new world. Skip has protected us many times. He is still protecting us. We may not like being ruled by the androids, but without them we wouldn’t have survived. Considering everything they’ve done for us here in Eden, too, we owe them our lives!”

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