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  I had a bag of figs ready to reward the female and keep her engaged in the activities I had planned. Nick and Elizabeth were entering the station, and the young bonobo stopped for a moment to look around before walking in all the way. She was openly curious and not at all afraid.

  “So I was thinking I’d name her, if that’s ok,” Elizabeth said. My team knew my penchant for naming all the animals I worked with. I’d named Lulu after one of the chimps I’d rescued in Nigeria before the end of my first life.

  “What did you have in mind?” I asked, a small smile dancing around my lips.

  “Well, I thought Charlene would be good, maybe Charlie for short? It was my grandmother’s name.”

  “I think that’s perfect.” I replied. Turning my attention to the bonobo, I reached for her hand and she gave it willingly, having been listening raptly to our exchange. Nick had walked over to sit beside Marilyn and was smiling, too.

  “We didn’t have any trouble bringing her in; she was with her brother and another female and they all seemed cool that we’d be borrowing her for the day. We left them some figs,” Nick said, his arm draped over Marilyn’s shoulders. They truly were a cute couple, I mused.

  “Ok, let’s start Charlie with the first introductory program. I’d like her to associate each symbol we show her with the proper hand sign, then she gets a fig. We’ll keep the vocabulary to ten words today, although she’s probably capable of more. I don’t want to stress her out.” I moved Charlie over to the little chair we’d set up in front of the tutorial console. I gave her a fig just as a reassurance, and she happily ate it.

  “First though, let’s give her another full physical examination, and we can track her stats over the coming days.” My team took out their personal computers, and mine was at the ready. I’d had a bit of a rough time adjusting to all the new technology here in Origin when I’d first awakened as a clone, but I’d eventually gotten the hang of it. Our computers were operated by artificial intelligence that could record almost anything, and they were essential to our research out here.

  “I’ll take her measurements, Nick, you take all her vitals. Marilyn, store the data in the main console,” Elizabeth instructed, and I admired her recent growth into a formidable leader. I didn’t mind that she had taken charge. My team was free to feel autonomous and not like I micro-managed every detail. Over the years, we had become more casual in our relationships. They began to scan Charlie, and she reached out to touch their computers, their hands, and their hair. She was five years old, too, the same age as Lulu. Lulu had spent many days by my side in the station. Before she learned to walk she had been clicking her mind into the dockets of other creatures, and I’d tried to make sure my team didn’t notice. They didn’t know about my own ability, and I felt I needed to keep it a secret from them. But Lulu’s knack for communicating with animals was a source of great joy to my team, not suspicion. I was always relieved when they’d laugh with delight at her antics. But Jack knew about my ability, and Lulu’s. And he kept it a secret. My thoughts now on my husband, I felt a pang again. He was still saving lives, as he had in his previous life. Here in Origin, there usually weren’t many emergencies. I hoped his job was fulfilling. He’d spent his first career traveling the ravaged planet, moving from one life-and-death experience to another.

  “Ok, let’s try to keep her still in the chair. Marilyn, get the program running. I just need to call Jack quickly. Nick, start Charlie with the first word.”

  I walked over toward one of our desks and got out my communicator to speak Jack’s name. All technology responded to thought command, but I was still averse to using the mind-reading feature. It set me apart, as most Originals utilized this function, but I didn’t care. The projected screen appeared above the small rectangle, and after several tones, Jack picked up. His face looked a little drawn, but he had a smile for me. Even over the communicator, it lit me up. Every time I saw it, I melted.

  “Hey, kid.” I grinned wider at his nickname for me; it was what he had always called me in our first life, and that hadn’t changed.

  “Hey,” I replied, moving toward one of the small cots along the wall. I slowly sat down, hearing a spring creak under my weight. We kept our station homey in case any of us had to spend the night. I saw my team stop in mid-sign with Charlie to listen in on my conversation. I thought that maybe they sensed something was up between Jack and me, and they’d probably been gossiping about it when I wasn’t around. Ignoring them, I continued.

  “I dropped Lulu off this morning, and I’m just reminding you to pick her up at three sharp. Don’t be late, I don’t want her spending any more time with kids that might not like her …”

  “How were the Super Moms?” Jack asked, amusement in his voice. I warmed to it; his sense of humor was often my sanity. I pulled my long leg up onto the lumpy mattress and told him about my encounter with them.

  “They didn’t even TRY to be nice to us. I’ve done nothing but show them I’m a committed mother and Original, but our … history … is just too notorious,” I lamented.

  “Ignore them, kid. And make sure OUR kid ignores them, too. I try to teach her she’s great just the way she is. So, what’s for dinner?”

  I laughed at his change of topic, his dancing eyes easing my worry. I was glad to see he seemed in a good mood today. Lately it was a crapshoot.

  “I’ll throw something together. I forgot it was my night to cook.” It wasn’t really cooking though, not like it had been in our first lives. The technology here in Origin was such that an entire feast could be ready within mere minutes. As clones, we were able to eat more than the average human could, our energy requirements larger and more complex, and Lulu had inherited that ability. Dinnertime with us was a singular event.

  “Ok then, I gotta go. I’ll see you after work.” Jack was distracted once more, looking over his shoulder at the nurses bustling behind him. The clinic was usually a Zen place, but today it looked pretty busy.

  “Ok, I love you.” I said, and I meant it with my whole being. Jack looked back at me, flashed his famous grin, and signed off. I sighed. I guessed that was as good as it was going to get with him today, and I’d have to deal with it. My team had busily returned to their tasks, and Charlie was rapt with the flashing pictures on the console. I needed to turn my attention to her and got up from the cot with another sigh. I walked back over to the chair where Charlie sat and threw myself into the work of the day, forgetting my worry over Jack, and not allowing myself to wonder what my kid was doing at her first day of school. I could only hope I wasn’t losing my husband, and that my daughter hadn’t gotten into any fights.

  CHAPTER THREE

  Later that afternoon, I hurried off the train, having worked myself into a light sheen of anxiety over Lulu’s first day of school. I had a tendency to catastrophize even the most banal situations and today was no exception. Over the course of the day, despite reassurances from my team, I had grown ever more consumed with fatalistic thinking that Lulu had gotten in some kind of trouble at her school, and that Jack would decide to divorce me because of it. I raced through the front door of our building, not even tempted to enjoy the wildlife of the lobby, which the massive apartment buildings in Origin were known for. Today I ignored the birdcalls and the vivid foliage and hurried to the elevator banks. Brushing past some tenants, I got onto the elevator car and breathlessly spoke my floor number. As usual, the other passengers were polite but avoided me, and I could never blame them. I was a clone, after all.

  The burnished metal of the car showed my reflection, and my hair was a mess. The angular planes of my face were tight with worry, and my gray eyes had smudges beneath them. I’d need to take one of my baths, I thought. My bathing rituals were essential to my sanity, and I was looking forward to trying out a new sponge that was supposed to exfoliate my skin unlike any other. But first was dinner with my family, and once on the 200th floor, I scuttled off, almost tripping in my haste. I had always been a klutz, and I told myself to
get it together. Practically running down the hallway, I arrived at our door and ordered it open, my voice taking on a hysterical edge. Walking in, I noticed Lulu’s pink bag on the floor, and Jack’s medical bag beside it. They were home, and I hurried past the gleaming kitchen and into the living room to see them seated on the floor, watching the projected screen that was the television. Nothing seemed wrong. I audibly sighed in relief, and they turned to look at me.

  “Mommy! You won’t believe what happened at school today!” Lulu exclaimed and got up to run into my awaiting arms. Jack unfolded his lean, muscular frame up from the floor and joined us, pecking me on the cheek.

  “Our little owl made a new friend. I told you there was nothing to worry about,” Jack said, a grin on his face but his eyes were distant, then back on the television. Lulu was in one of her ebullient moods, though, and wasn’t about to stop. I took a moment to put down my bag and sit on the body-conforming couch.

  “Tell me all about it,” I urged my daughter, but she needed no encouragement. What followed was a long explanation of a little boy in her class who had begun to bully her, but then another little girl stuck up for her, and this was her new best friend. I raised my eyebrow at Jack, who was half listening. He shrugged, as if to say, “What did you expect?”

  “And guess what, we have a pet rabbit! It’s the class rabbit so I can’t keep him, but I missed not being in the jungle today. What happened?” Lulu was going to dearly miss her time with me out in the forests, but I felt better knowing she’d made a friend.

  “Well, I worked with the little girl bonobo, and we named her Charlene, Charlie for short. She was very well behaved. It sounds like you were, too.” I finished my sentence with a kiss to Lulu’s head, then got up to make my way to the kitchen.

  “Who’s hungry?” I asked, and they both responded that they were. Jack had sat down on the couch and was staring at the screen blankly, but I thought by the time the food was ready he’d be more engaged with us. At least, I hoped.

  “What happened at the clinic today?” I asked him, and he shrugged again.

  “A couple broken bones, nothing major. I need to make a phone call, I’ll be back in a few minutes when dinner’s ready.” With that he stood up and left the room, and Lulu looked at me. She obviously sensed the tension between Jack and me, so I deflected. “Help me with ordering the oven to bake?” I asked her, and she nodded. I didn’t like her to use the mind command features on the appliances in our home and insisted she use her voice. She never argued, but I could tell she was frustrated with my suspicions of such commonplace devices, especially since we shared a telepathic ability with nonhumans. In the kitchen, amidst the grays and earth tones, I felt a bit calmer. Our condo was very peaceful, especially after I had insisted we decorate with lots of flowering plants and a little waterfall in the entryway. I wanted to bring a touch of the jungle here into the city, for Lulu. I opened the food containment center, a sort of refrigerator that resembled something from my first life, and helped Lulu stand on her toes to reach the pseudo-meat and vegetables. No one ate actual meat anymore, but we had pretty good substitutes now.

  “Why are you and Daddy mad at each other?” she asked, and I sighed. I closed the door and arranged the food on the chrome counter top.

  “We’re not mad at each other, Little Owl. I promise.” Her solemn gaze held mine for a moment, and I was once again glad she couldn’t read my mind. After I threw together the shepherd’s pie, I told Lulu to bake it. It would be ready in three minutes, and I wanted to see if I could catch Jack on the phone with someone he shouldn’t be. I had a horrible hunch he might be cheating on me, because what else could drive him away from me? We had such an open and loving relationship, and the dread that knotted my stomach almost ruined my appetite. But in typical clone fashion, I’d be able to eat my fair share no matter what. I walked down the hall after telling Lulu to set the table, passing under the Picasso prints and low lighting on the way to our bedroom. I heard Jack say good-bye to someone, and he opened the faux-mahogany door before I could see whom he had been talking to.

  “Dinner ready?” he asked, and didn’t stop to look at me on his way to the dining room.

  “Yeah,” I said, trying to make my displeasure at his attitude clear in my tone. He either didn’t notice or didn’t care.

  Lulu had placed all the cutlery and china in a formal dining pattern, and I stopped to admire her handiwork and praise her for it. We sat down to eat, and Lulu kept up most of the chatter. It was more about her day at school and the class pet, and Jack did make an attempt to stay engaged, but only for so long. I decided to bring up our annual trip to my ocean cove. I had dreamed of it in my first life, told Jack about it the night we had first made love, and he had never forgotten. He’d found it somehow, on the coast of what was once Mexico, and we went back every year for our anniversary.

  “What do you think of bringing Lulu with us this year? To the cove.” I forked some pie into my mouth and waited for Lulu’s excited response. “Really? Mom? Can I? The special place you saw in your dreams?” Her little legs danced in her chair. Jack reached over to ruffle her hair, took a sip of wine, and replied, “It might not be a good idea just yet. A lot of things are changing at the clinic lately … I’m not sure we should go this year. Would you be very disappointed if we put the trip off for a while?”

  I felt crushed. That cove was the place I felt that heaven was possible, the rocky wall with the perfect yet asymmetrical hole in it, showing the blue of the ocean beyond it, the safety of the warm water and colorful fish. But I wasn’t about to protest his decision in front of Lulu, who was already worried about our relationship.

  “Sure, we can wait until things are better at work. I’m going to be busy in the jungle for quite a while …” I trailed off, and Jack grew quiet again. I picked up the slack and turned the conversation to my day with my team and Charlie. Usually my work fascinated Jack, but tonight his body language was that of a stranger. After we ate, he helped clean up and returned to the living room to stare at the television. I decided Lulu should go to bed early, and she didn’t protest. It was great having a kid who was so flexible. I joined Jack on the couch, and the nightly broadcast came on over the projected screen. I never liked to watch the news, as it reminded me of the coverage of the Eaters’ brutal killing sprees, but Jack insisted on staying current. Tonight there was a report of the newly organized, Origin Council–run Facility beginning weapons development. My eyes snapped open wide. I was paying close attention. Now that the Origin Council oversaw all aspects of the city, things remained peaceful but the threat of the world returning to the chaos I had known in my first life was always there. After the Travelers had left, Origin and other cities around the world reverted to democracies in which Councils were elected by the citizens. It was the best political model we had, albeit rife with potential conflict.

  The soothing tones of the newscaster were conveying some shocking information, terrifying to me at least. She was talking about the need for governments around the world to be able to defend themselves against any potential threats, arming themselves against each other should the need arise. My hackles rose and my heart began to beat an irregular rhythm. She was blandly discussing the potential for war, and the Director had clearly told me the Travelers would be watching humanity for any signs of conflict. The Director … there was that thought of her again. The human representative of the Travelers had been a steely, frigid woman who had struck fear into the hearts of all the researchers at the Facility. When the Eaters had begun to attack the Originals, and elsewhere in the world, we had known she was behind the creation of the apex predators. She had chosen me, partly because of my telepathic ability, to convey the Travelers’ message that humanity had better watch themselves and avoid screwing up the good thing the Travelers had given them. Namely a revitalized planet and worldwide freedom from misery. I shuddered at that encounter with her on board the Travelers’ spacecraft, alone with her in that sterile white room, strapped
down into a chair. There I had bargained with her for the entire human race.

  “Jack?” I said, my voice tremulous from the jolt of adrenaline now racing through my veins.

  “Hm?” He was watching with a piqued interest but looked calm. “Are you thinking what I’m thinking? If the Origin Council is ordering the Facility to create super weapons …” I let my thought trail off, and waited for his response. He shifted in the soft material of the couch and ran his hands through his dark hair, the streak of white still in it. He’d gotten it during his time as an Eater, and it was a constant reminder of that horror.

  “You worry too much, kid. It’s just practical to build up government defense. Remember our era? It was all about military spending. But they know what actual war would mean.” He had arrived at an opposite conclusion I had and was taking a wait-and-see attitude. He thought we all knew better, that the message I had brought back from my encounter with the Director would be heeded. I didn’t have that hope.