Next Chapter ~ Return to Contents ~ Writer’s Den

Chapter Nineteen

The Trouble With Clones

As long as the clones were unborn and still growing in the lab, the colonists had a great deal of free time after doing their chores for hobbies and the occasional field trip beyond the fence, but that began to change when the first batch of clones were born. Because infants required constant care and monitoring, the humans would assist in the nursery in twenty-four shifts, leaving the others free to tend the garden, work the field, or perform maintenance and janitorial work in the buildings and on the grounds. When the infants became toddlers, the children graduated to the play area where an additional pair of attendants were necessary, also working around the clock. All seven of the keepers took turns in eight hour shifts, so that the children were at no time left unattended. Except for the extra care that infants required, as the children grew older, they required less personal care and more security against mischief. When they reached puberty and began to explore their sexuality, they required frequent intervention. Still much smaller in size than their keepers, they were, penned in on all sides by a secondary fence, monitored much as animals in a zoo. When mischief was in the making was, the gate would open, and keepers would rush to the scene. At play and during sleeping hours the children were watched, in what was a tedious but patterned routine. All went well for the keepers as the children grew because there was basic control. When it was necessary to enter the pen to break up a fight or prevent sexual escapades, the keepers easily overpowered the troublemakers. The message to the youngsters was simply ‘We’re bigger than you, so behave!’

******

When they became adults, however, as copies of the donors, and were actually stronger than them, serious problems arose. The adults, who required a wider range of activity for recreation and were assigned gardening chores to keep them occupied, were naturally devious, sexually precocious, and could overpower the keepers if given the chance and became almost psychotic if their plans were thwarted.

Throughout the cycle, from infant to adult, during the drudgery of caring for and guarding the clones, did the colonists display affection for them. Occasionally, a donor might look with fondness at the his or her offspring, but then dismiss the thought when the boy or girl returned a stupid grin or blank expression. Because of the synthetic and superficial nature of the clones, the flattery normally associated with parentage was absent. They weren’t normal. They would never be normal. Nicole, as the lab manager, might clasp her hands at her look-a-likes and utter pleasantries, but she wasn’t right in the head. From the beginning for the other Earth-born humans, something wasn’t right about the clones. It wasn’t just the expression on their faces or lemming-like behavior. For all practical purposes, all of the embryos and fetuses looked the same. This was even true for the newborns, who all had that wrinkly, unfocused look of infanthood. When they progressed through the stages of childhood and into adulthood, they looked much the same as their donors had growing up. That they chattered nonsensically and appeared dull-witted at times, was simply annoying for the colonists. Their feeling that there was something terribly wrong about the clones had begun much earlier than the stages of growth, beginning when they first looked into lab jars and shuddered at the thought. It became much scarier for them, of course, when a batch grew into adults.

Fueling the colonists’ dislike of the clones was a predisposition that began when they awakened from their first hibernation and were told that cell specimens had been extracted from their bodies while they slept, a subterfuge carried out without their knowledge or permission. After this disclosure, the implications of the deception, felt deeply at first, was almost forgotten in the intervening centuries, until Kepler 186f was found. The initial resentment then flooded back to them like a bad dream. No sooner had they founded the colony, which they named Eden, than they were reminded by the caretakers of the real purpose of the mission. They were no longer merely stellarnauts. Because of what happened on Earth, they—the remnant of mankind—would one day become caretakers responsible for the human race. They, the original humans, who would age and die, were expendable; the clones—the new humans—were not. The weight of this prospect greatly increased the colonists’ resentment. After the clone laboratory was set up, they became nannies and keepers, a burden that seemed unbearable at times. When, the clones grew into adults and became dangerous, fear was added to the problem. Like looking into cracked mirrors the perfect images they saw were, in reality, deeply flawed.

As a consequence of the methods used in this mission and the overwhelming aspects of the task, the glorious enterprise that the caretakers saw for the stellarnauts, which had so excited Earth scientists, failed to inspire the donors. The joy felt by Nicole Bennett, the lab supervisor overseeing embryo and fetus development, was therefore not shared by her associates, who were predisposed against them from the start.

In what seemed like a good idea by Nicole at first, each of the eight living donors acted as nannies for their respective offspring, but this was impractical and unfair. Due to the failure rate in different batches, some donors had significantly more charges than others. It was decided therefore that the newborns ready for the nursery would be evenly distributed to each of the original humans. Also distributed equitably were the offspring of the dead stellarnauts, haunting reminders of Elroy, Hans, Gandy, and Ling. For all of the twelve donors (living and dead), with their physical perfection and generic personalities, they seemed like poor copies of their parents. None of the clones had a blemish that might distinguish them from others in their batch. Though given the same name as the donor, with numbers following the name to set them apart until they chose a name for themselves, they were nothing like the original humans. This was, especially true for clones originating from Elroy, Hans, Gandy, and Ling. The clone recipients couldn’t speak the donor’s language, and they had none of their mannerisms. Not only did they talk exactly like their fellow clones, they moved their bodies like them, so that the added number shown on their shirts, such as Abe-1, 2, 3, etc, seemed redundant, since all Abe’s were all precisely the same. The English, German, Indian, and Chinese accents, for the respective crewmembers that characterized them the most were absent, replaced by the dialect of the colony and mentality of their peers. They were, in many ways, boring and dull creatures, not stupid but not very bright. They learned quickly and were good in math, science, and general knowledge, but they lacked inquisitiveness and cared not a wit for aesthetics or philosophy. They had, due to their fragile natures, tempers and were quick to anger, a trait that worsened and became a serious problem when they were adolescents and was proved to be a threat when they became adults.

When, after watching the first batch grow to maturity and each of the eight natural humans were able finally to recognize themselves in their progeny, the image in the cracked mirror analogy offered by Ingrid, was more unsettling than what they saw in the children. The adults were much more devious than children. They had uncontrollable tempers. Often, a mischievous gleam appeared in their deer-in-the-headlights gaze. Having discovered the use of their genitals in puberty then adolescence, they were, like dogs in heat, constantly attempting to rut. When thwarted by interfering keepers, however, the darkest side of their personalities appeared. It may have taken a long time to get used to their blank expressions and docile manners, but that was much better than the unpredictability in their behavior, which, at times, erupted in uncontrolled rage.

When asked why the clones behaved the way they did, Sandra gave them a logical, but not conclusive, answers: The reason for their apparent lack of individual personality was, in fact, based upon learned behavior. The unnatural beginning and unnatural nurturing encouraged sameness, lack of initiative, conformity, and unstable behavior. This lemming-like behavior, which surfaced during early childhood encouraged unstable behavior for individuals, which was also learned behavior. A chain reaction of agitation might even occur when someone didn’t get his or her way, until several clones, in imitation of the first, exploded in rage. According to Carla Mendoza’s take on it, ‘It was monkey see monkey do. When surrounded by other boring and dull creatures, they all tended to be the same.’

When they became adults, this trait was, of course, much more serious. Their tirades, unlike the normal tirades displayed by children or adults, was more reminiscent of cornered beasts, who bared their teeth and tried clawing their captors when caught. So far, this behavior had been controlled in the nursery by giving in the children’s every whim. As children in the play area, still smaller than their keepers, they were simply overpowered. Usually, the children would calm down on their own if left alone, but occasionally they had to be drugged. Now that they had become adults, however, their outbursts were becoming intolerable and, at times, actually dangerous. Reason only worked on them if the clone wasn’t in a frenzied state. When that occurred, drugs would have to be applied to them by Sandra and Woody to prevent bodily harm, a feat seen in a mental institution when a berserk individual had to be restrained by several attendants before he or she calmed down.

This problem for the current batch of clones and those in the near future was, for all practical purposes, Sandra admitted, permanent. Despite this dreary forecast, the managers of this enterprise, Sandra and Woody, felt confident that one day it would pay off. According to Nicole, who was merely parroting Sandra more scientific explanation, “The clones must one day interbreed with other batches, a procedure forbidden them now, until there were approximately two thousand copies for each batch. With the gene pool widened to such a safe margin to prevent mutations and secure a healthy species, newborns would then come forth naturally after sexual intercourse between male and female pairs. At that point, as natural births, they would have infinite variations in physical type and, because of the behavior as individuals caused by these variations, would not be prone to uncontrolled flare-ups and develop unique personalities and traits on their own, without the copy-cat mentality of the mob.”

It all made sense. The grim truth was easy to understand. Because this phase might take centuries to achieve, however, Sandra’s explanation seemed irrelevant and asinine to the keepers. Not one of them during their lifetimes would see another member of their species outside of their own group who had a sense of humor, spirited personality, or unique trait that set them apart from the creatures science had labeled clones. What they would continue to see were fragile, immature young men and women, who reacted like irrational animals at times. This, far more than their boring personalities, became monotonous, nerve-wracking, and depressing for the colonists, who, at times, felt as if they were really keepers in a zoo.

When the day finally came that they could see their own physical selves in the clones, when dozens of their replications scampered about, their mere presence became intolerable. Their actions became maddening. Great effort had been made to make them have more initiative and maturity by giving them individual projects in the school, putting them into work details, and organizing them into separate teams in sports. “After all,” as Skip complained to Sandra and Woody, “the first batches are adults now. They should start acting like adults. Life, especially on this planet, isn’t a game!”

Unfortunately, this had become a tired issue. Sports for the children was a free-for-all. For the adults, it often lead, as Carla would see it to ‘monkey business,’ in which male and female coupling might result. Skip had been too busy it appeared to see the problems arising. He would come down to the colony, make a few judgments, then return to the ship, satisfied that he had said his peace. Also negligent it seemed were Sandra and Wood, as Carla saw it, the architects of this crisis, who stood back, arms folded, nodding their heads, clueless like everyone else. Now that the first batch had become adults it was only a matter of time before something went dreadfully wrong.

******

One typical morning, as Abe, Sheila, and Ingrid took their turn watching the adults, there was an incident. Inside a triangle, with keepers posted at each corner, an Abe clone and a Sheila clone broke them their labors in the field and began frolicking to and fro. At first, Abe-8 and Sheila-10 ran around in circles, as if teasing the watchers, while the other adults continued filling grain baskets. Unlike the lack of stress in watching children in the nursery or their turn in the playground, watching the children play, there was no time for idle chatter among the keepers, so the threesome chatted through their wrist communicators. So far the mischievous pare hadn’t crossed the line, and yet Abe gave hand signals to Sheila, to move up a few meters. To Ingrid, who stood on the opposite site of the field, he motioned for her to stand fast.

As always, it was a tiresome and nerve-racking routine. To prevent pregnancy in female clones, birth control in the form of a pill was forced upon them whenever possible, but trying to reach all of the identical clones and not getting confused and the fact that the attendants, themselves, were often careless, placed the process in question. Pills were inadequate unless taken by all of females, who, in any event, often spit them out. Most of the time, the natural deviousness of clones made chemical birth control impossible. It was better just to break up clingy pairs and make sure none of them were ever out of sight. For awhile, this tedious enterprise was also facilitated by a chemical similar to salt peter forced upon males, which turned off the sex drive, but was no more fool-proof than birth control, because of the difficulty of divvying out the tablets and reaching all identical clones, who once again, spit out the pills.

Today, as Abe-8 and Sheila-10 began fondling each other, as if daring them to take action, Abe signaled to Sheila ‘Let’s go get’em!’ To Ingrid, he pointed to the lab, signaling her to fetch Sandra and Woody. As the couple ran to the edge of the field with Abe and Sheila in pursuit, Abe lost his patience. Spouting obscenities he hadn’t used in literally ages, he was called in the other keepers. Unlike previous episodes, this couple was testing them to the limit. Already, they seemed on the verge of doing it. There was no time to waste.

“I don’t care what Sandra said,” he growled to Sheila, “We need to throw a net on all the females and shove those pills down their throats.”

“They tried that once,” Sheila reminded him “Like trapped animals, they become psychotic.”

Mbuto, with Said close behind, joined the chase. “They are animals!” he spat. “Lab specimens turned zoo animals. They’ll never be like us!”

Always tuned in to the colony, Skip’s voice sounded from their communication links: “Don’t lose your cool men. According to Sandra, when they mature naturally, they’ll have our traits. We just have to be patient.”

“Don’t lose our cool? Be patient?” Said looked up angrily at the sky. “According Barbie here, the clones won’t procreate naturally for centuries. By then we’ll all be dead!”

“Those creatures will never be normal,” Mbuto complained, as they cornered the pair. “Their brains don’t function like us.”

“What’s happening down there Abe?” asked Skip. “I thought you were in control!”

“I’m trying to,” snapped Abe. “We’re all trying. They were going to have sex, Skip. Right out in the open. That drug isn’t working on the males. The girl acts oversexed.”

“Really?” Skip murmured. “I’ll take that up with Sandra and Woody. Don’t lose your temper, Abe. Those two are just testing you. You must set an example to your crew!”

Abe could scarcely believe his ears. Skip spoke of his role as captain as if they were still back on the ship. For a moment, as the fleet-footed clones scampered further away, he paused to gain his breath. Though tempted to just let the pair escape somewhere and have sex, Said and Mbuto were closing in on them, also thoroughly agitated at this point. Against a hedge of berries, the couple were finally cornered. Turning around angrily, they hissed and bared their teeth.

“You men are making them angry!” Sheila winced.

“It doesn’t take much!” grumbled Said.

“Look at them!” Mbuto exclaimed. “You’d think we were torturing them!”

Both the male and female were snarling, their nostrils flaring, crouched down as if ready to attack. With the couple’s backs to a hedge running the length of the field—Mbuto on one side, Said on the other, and Abe in front of the pair—Abe cried out, “Now!”

“You two hold the girl,” he directed, out of breath, “I’ll grab the boy!”

Waiting for just the right moment, the men were filled with dread.

Ingrid ran back to the field now, making hand signals to Abe he couldn’t decode. When Abe shouted, “Where in the hell is Sandra and Woody?”, she merely shrugged her shoulders and shook her head. Inexplicably, the two lab managers were nowhere in sight. From the sidelines, after stumbling upon the scene, Carla narrated what she saw for Max, now arriving from patrolling the perimeter of the colony. “Look at them!” she gloated. “…. They’re like zombies at times. When not running aimlessly around, they’re grinning like fools or chattering like monkeys, until you corner one of them, and then look out!”

“They’re possessed.” Ingrid observed sadly. “They need a group exorcism—all of them. Not one of them wants to be saved. They call me names and spit in my face. I know I must pray for them, but it seems God isn’t listening or doesn’t recognize them as his own!”

“They’re children of a lesser God,” Carla quoted twentieth century playwright Mark Medoff.

“Hold on men!” Max called through cupped hands. “I’ll give you a hand!”

With four men on the job, the odds seemed to be in their favor, but, like inmates in an asylum, the clones’ strength was magnified by rage.

“Stop that!” Abe warned the boy, “or so help me I’ll knock you out!”

“Stop kicking you bitch!” warned Said.

While Said and Mbuto tried controlling the Sheila clone, Max reached in with dread to grab Abe-8’s other arm. Suddenly the female clone broke away from Said and Mbuto, her high pitched scream trailing off gradually as she fled the scene. It reminded Mbuto of an old horror movie he had seen: ‘Cry of the Banshee.’ With a look of feral anger on his face, Abe-8, though restrained by both arms, bared his teeth and lunged at Max. As Max backed away to avoid his fangs, almost receiving a nasty bite, Abe disabled him with a punch to his midsection.

“Take that—you son-of-a-bitch!” he exclaimed, as the young man doubled up and fell to his knees.

Ingrid, who decided to get involved, prayed. Carla heckled from the sidelines: “Give him personality, Abe. Smack that perfect face, too. Blacken his eyes and break his nose.”

When Said and Mbuto caught up with Sheila-10 that moment, she delivered a blow that almost hit its mark. “You bitch!” Said screamed. “You almost hit my crotch!” Mbuto was scratched and, from a distance, she managed to throw a rock that barely missed Abe’s head. Losing control, as had Abe, the two men grabbed her wrists and pulling on each side, stood there helplessly as she thrashed, like bucking bronco, to and fro.

From the door of the lab, Nicole shrieked in rage, “You bastards! What are you doing to my children?”

“Abe-8 and Sheila-10 aren’t children,” shouted Carla, “they’re adults. I’d of decked that bitch if she tried biting me and kicked her boyfriend in the nuts!”

“Shame on you Carla!” bellowed Nicole. “Shame on you all. You don’t know how to deal with you’re offspring. You never did. You’re dreadful, ungrateful parents!”

As Sheila-10 broke loose and escaped her captors, Ingrid stopped praying a moment. “It’s not just the adult clones.” She shook her head. “Nicole’s also possessed. No one can be that blind!”

“She’s nuts!” Carla shook her fist. “Those chemicals have fried her brain!”

From the distance, a familiar voice rang out. “What’s the problem?” Sandra, who had taken her time responding to Ingrid’s plea for help, asked less calmly now. “Abe, did you strike that clone?”

“You’re lucky I didn’t break his jaw!” roared Abe. “That maniac tried sinking his teeth in me.”

“What about you two?” She called to Mbuto and Said. “Did you manhandle that girl?”

“You got that backwards!” Mbuto held up his bleeding arm. “Look at it, Sandra. Like a mad beast, she scratched me! I hope I don’t get rabies from that bitch!”

Walking over to inspect his wound, she watched as Abe-8 staggered away, a beaten dog look on his face. “You might need a tetanus shot,” she explained to Mbuto, “but rabies is a disease of Earth.”

“I thought you andies were smarter than us.” Carla sneered. “Can’t you see what’s in front of your face, woman. Those bastards are out of control!”

“The clones can’t process stress,” Sandra explained scornfully, “they require a stern but patient hand. Now Sheila-10 and Abe-8 will have to be drugged in order to calm them down!”

“That’s too bad!” Said stomped his foot. “You want us to control these mutants, but you don’t want us to defend ourselves if they go berserk. Last week, Said-6 kicked my knee. If I had caught him then, I would’ve have wrung his neck!”

“We’ve been abused,” grumbled Carla. “Carla-5 threw sand in my face and Carla-9 socked me in the arm when I tried to gather them for lunch.”

“Hmm.” Sandra folded her arms. “We’re going to have to provide you with something to calm them down.”

“If that isn’t the mother and father of understatements!” cried Max.

Because only the managers were allowed to drug the clones, this suggestion seemed especially inane to the keepers. Woody appeared suddenly by Sandra’s side, discussing the problem with her. As if it was but a trifling matter, he suggested that they use a different mood alternating drug or the same drug but increased dosage. Sandra agreed with the stipulation that the effects, which might cause psychosis, be monitored by the keepers and, if need be, some of the hardcore clones would be separated from the rest.

Clasping his forehead as he listened to them, Abe heaved a loud, exaggerated sigh. “You hear that, folks?” He looked at the others. “It’s going to be another study. The drug might cause psychosis—as if we need more of that. Everything’s a experiment: the Triton Mission, our odyssey in space, and now the clones, whose descendents one day, when we’re long gone, will be normal like us!”

Sheila appeared by his side, holding his hand. “…. There-there,” she cooed. “Next time let them have sex. When a few of the females get pregnant, maybe they’ll wake up!”

Within earshot, as Sandra and Woody walked back to the lab, Carla broke into laughter, then began taunting the two. Wearied and unnerved by the whole affair, Ingrid gave Carla a worried smile. She and Max looked at each other in dismay as Carla cried out, “Look at you; you can’t see the obvious. All that knowledge and you don’t have a clue! This isn’t working. It never has, and it never will. We’re the last of our kind. They’re a new species, created in the lab. They’re dangerous! What you should really do is protect us from them!” Though uttered by only one person, it was the most serious example of mutiny in the colony ever expressed.

******

Clutching his arm now, Mbuto let Said lead him to the hospital, where Max would dress the wound and give him a shot. Ingrid would pray for Carla so she would not finally bring down the androids’ wrath. She managed to guide her friend into the garden and tried to calm her down. The damage, however, if taken seriously by Sandra and Woody, had been done. She had merely voiced what existed in the other humans’ minds. Still standing in the field, casting a troubled gaze up at the direction of the ship, Abe summed up their dilemma.

“I hope Carla’s wrong,” he said, as she continued her rant. “No one else had the nerve to air their grievances. She never knew how to control her feelings. But we are the caretakers now. The clones require a constant 24/7 vigil. If we start letting them get pregnant, this whole business will just worsen. Can you imagine what they’ll be like if they inbreed. I hope Sandra and Woody are serious about this. The best remedy would be to forget this silly policy of keeping the adults busy in the garden and field. They’re animals—all of them. We should corral them like the children, so we can keep an eye on them. Letting them run about like they are is insane!”

“The point is,” Sheila insisted, “it will be their problem, not ours. We aren’t going to live forever, but those andies are!”

Next Chapter ~ Return to Contents ~ Writer’s Den