THEIR FIRST MEALTIME was signaled by the opening of their door and guards coming in with food trays. Kesada stood, hands on hips, and looked scornfully at them. “Don’t bother,” she said. “You can tell Dr. Metmuri that we’ll take our meals in the cafeteria. We’ve spent long enough in isolation, and frankly, we’re tired of it.”
The guards halted in mid-pace. Their senior by the door scowled, hand on the butt of the stun stick at his belt. “If you want to eat, you better take this.”
Kesada leveled a cold stare at him. “We’ve been informed we’re not prisoners here. Maybe the word didn’t get to you. I expect we’ll be treated like the guests we are. You’re welcome to escort us to the cafeteria any time you like. Now would be nice. We’re hungry.”
At a gesture from the non-com, the men retreated and the door sealed behind them.
“Kes…!” breathed her twin.
“Kesada,” she said, over her shoulder. “I never did like nicknames very much.”
THEY FOUND A table at the back of the cafeteria away from immediate ears, though they felt many eyes upon them. Their guards were in sight but not hovering—the invocation of Dr. Metmuri had done some good after all, it seemed. Kesada coolly put her back to them and sat at the end of a table, Kesi to her side. “We’re probably not monitored here,” she said quietly. “It’s such a public place, and usually it’s only Navy and staff in here, looks like. But the guards don’t need to see how much we’re talking. Let me know if anyone comes near.”
Kesi nodded. She could see their watchers over Kesada’s shoulder, though they were both sipping kaf at a table and apparently not paying much attention to the twins.
“Now what?” she asked.
Kesada stared at the breis pilaf on her plate, stuck her fork tentatively into the cutlet beside it. “I don’t know. None of this makes sense. We’re not being told everything.”
Kesi nodded, cutting her own cutlet into small cubes. “I find it hard to believe the House knew I’d be part of a technology test. Agreeing to let something life-altering happen to their top draw at Tryst?” She squirmed uncomfortably. In the wide demi-world of the Enclave, such a thing was possible, she knew, but—she hoped—unlikely to occur. The pledge of adoption cut both ways, and Palumara House had obligations to safeguard the well-being of Hinano Kesada, just as she had to help the House. But how far did the definition of “help” extend…?
“And surely they didn’t know I’d be treated like a prisoner here. We’d be. Oh! I’m not used to thinking of myself in the plural.” Her grip on her utensils went knuckle-white and tears welled in her eyes. “I’m so mad I could spit. And scared, too. I’m not supposed to be a clone.” Her eyes darted to Kesada, then back to her plate. “No offense.”
Her twin snorted. “I’m not supposed to be one, either. This is against the cloning regulations, you know.”
Kesi’s brow furrowed. “I don’t recall…”
“I do. Remember when I—we—priced resuscitation insurance for Bren? The insurance he decided not to buy?” They fell silent for a moment. How different things would be if he’d held a clone in resuscitation reserve.
Kesada started in on her own cutlet. “A clone’s brain pattern comes from a map of the original—engrams and neurochemicals recorded as a snapshot in time. One neural map is good for one discharge of its contents into one clone’s brain. The most expensive and complete life insurance a rich person can buy.” She gave a dry laugh. “So first off, there are two of us. If our Prime had two recordings made, one of us should at least remember being brain-mapped two times. I don’t. Do you?”
Kesi shook her head slowly. “I’m not sure I even remember one. Unless that time with the trodes was actually…?”
Kesada nodded agreement. “I think it was. And without my permission, because they surely didn’t explain that was part of a cloning process, now did they? So that was part of their ‘technology testing.’” Kesi’s fists clenched as Kesada continued. “And I thought so for the other reason this all stinks, and it’s just what Metmuri said: we’re different.” She gestured towards her twin with the sharp end of her knife. “We look alike, all right. Same genes, sure. But we’re not alike.”
“He said they liberated certain attributes in our psyches.”
Kesada snorted. “What newfound things do you feel inside? Me—not a one. Seems they’ve done something other than ‘liberate’ things.” Kesada gestured at her twin. “Look at you. I say boo and you want to cry, or have a tantrum. While I’m the only one doing any clear thinking around here. You have all the emotions I’m happy to do without, and I seem to have all the analytical thinking that you’re missing.”
Kesi blanched and dropped her fork to her plate. Her lip trembled with suppressed reaction. “How can you say that?” she said tightly. “I’m perfectly rational.”
“Perfectly rationalizing, maybe.”
Kesi slammed a fist on the table, then looked abashed. “Oooh!”
Her twin’s lip quirked in a half smile. “Sorry. I’m not trying to bait you. The point is this: clones should have virtually identical reactions and thought processes. We don’t. And he may call it liberation, but I feel more like something’s been damped down.”
Kesi looked troubled. “How so?”
“I remember from before, being upset about things. Or happy. Or sad. But it seems so distant now. It doesn’t move me. I’m not seeing much that does move me. And that’s kind of … unsettling.”
Her twin nodded slowly. “I can’t say you’re wrong. I’m trying to stay centered here, but my moods and reactions are all over the place. I remember being very organized and thinkish about some things. I feel like I could do that again if I wanted to, but … it’s hard to focus that way.” She flicked a finger at Kesada. “I don’t get how you can stay so calm. None of this seems to bother you.”
“It bothers me, all right. I’m just not letting those feelings run me—and for once, that’s amazingly easy to do. Makes me wonder what else we’re missing that we’re not aware of yet.”
They regarded each other silently for a minute, until Kesi finally shook her head. “So where does that leave us?”
A shadow passed over Kesada’s face. “In a pile of shit, I think. Look: why would they do this to us? What did our Prime decide or agree to, that she allowed them to create clones like us? It must have happened after that first brain mapping we recall. Or maybe she didn’t agree to this. Does she even know we exist?”
The thought stilled them both.
“I just want my life back,” Kesi said tremulously. “And Morya.”
Kesada looked at her sharply. “I know. And I’m thinking we won’t be getting any life back, as long as Kes is living it and we’re in the tender care of Metmuri and company.”
Kesi chewed her lip. “And Eva—where’s she gotten to? She was pretty close while we were being ‘tested,’ and now where is she?”
Kesada looked up, a piece of meat skewered on her fork. “It wasn’t us she was close to. It was our Prime she was spending time with. I think that’s where our answers are.”
Kesi locked eyes with her. “We need to find her.”
Her twin nodded. “And we need to get out of here to do it.”