Your One & Only(13)
If the others in Vispera sensed a lack of harmony between the Gen-310 Carsons and Altheas, then Althea and her sisters were obliged to seek a resolution. It was the way things were always done in Vispera. As a result, they had agreed to choose the Carsons tonight, and there was no way around it. Althea had to go along or risk upsetting her sisters, all the older Altheas, and really, the entire Pairing Ceremony itself. She sighed, returning her full attention to keeping the record.
Carson-292’s voice picked up and droned through the meeting hall. They were discussing the amniotic tanks.
“The timers on the tanks are missing,” he said. “They disappeared, and they’re not the first thing to disappear from the labs either, but they are the most critical. The next generation will be born soon. If we don’t find the timers, how will we control the oxygen levels in the amniotic tanks? We have to get to the bottom of this.”
“We’re as interested as you in figuring it out, Carson.” The Inga sat at the head of the table, presiding over the Council meeting. “We’re all aware of what’s at stake, and we’re working on the problem.”
Althea noted the gray hair at the Inga’s temples and realized she’d recorded the wrong Gen. In the end, which individual Inga was acting on the Council made little difference. Council members were chosen with a Gen communing and deciding by consensus who should represent the models in a given month. Those selected were usually the most adept at weaving through communing currents and picking out slight intimations of difference, swirling eddies of dissent and divergence. Though everyone was capable of serving on the Council, these were the ones who won a nomination time and again. Althea went back to the transcript and adjusted the record, noting that a 280 was representing the Ingas this week. If Althea wanted to be respected as a record keeper and future historian, she couldn’t afford silly mistakes.
“That’s not good enough,” Carson-292 said. “We need security in the labs.” He leaned back in his chair. “Those timers were stolen. This is sabotage.”
The other Council members slumped in their chairs as if weary of an old argument.
“Don’t be ridiculous, Carson,” Inga said. “We’ll post some Viktors there, but I’m sure they’ve just been misplaced by the new apprentices, that’s all. They’ll turn up soon.”
Carson-292’s lips tightened, but Althea noted in the record his assent to the proposal for new security.
Inga turned to her agenda. “Next item to discuss is the proposed modification of the de-extinction project. Samuel, since you’ve had the most involvement, would you like to address the Council?”
Althea’s fingers paused on her machine. They were talking about the human, Jack. After that day in school, no one had seen him for a long time. Then suddenly he started appearing now and then, walking with his eyes focused on the ground in front of him, keeping to himself. Sometimes she’d see him carrying baskets of linen to and from the clinic. And then at the Declaration, he’d attacked Carson again. That was the first time she’d been reminded of the violence that shimmered just under the surface, the same violence that had ended with Carson-312 out of class for a week. Althea remembered the anxiety of the Carsons during their brother’s absence. It’d made them jittery and short-tempered.
The brothers had been excused from class for the last few days Carson-312 was gone. They seemed about ready to fall apart, and the Council was concerned Carson-312 might fracture and there would have to be a Binding Ceremony. Althea had seen one once. A few years ago, a jaguar had come over the wall and attacked an older Hassan. He hadn’t simply been injured, he’d been traumatized as well. He refused to walk any of the paths hidden in trees, and eventually he wouldn’t even leave the Hassan dorm. His erratic behavior distanced him from his brothers, and when there was nothing more to be done, Althea had watched with the rest of the community as the remaining Hassan brothers said their ritualistic goodbyes before slipping a needle into the arm of the fractured Hassan. He’d drifted off, closing his glassy eyes, and then the community drank cups of punch and chatted solemnly about having uneven numbers at the Gen’s next Pairing Ceremony.
Fracturing was rare, but it was painful for everyone. In the end, Carson-312 hadn’t fractured. Everyone was relieved they hadn’t needed the Binding Ceremony, and they subsequently remained silent about that terrible day. Althea avoided thinking about it all as much as possible. She couldn’t help watching Samuel-299, however, wondering what he was going to say about Jack and the project that seemed to have caused so much trouble.
“First,” Samuel-299 said, “I’d like to point out that the decision to exclude the subject—Jack—from the ceremonies and rites of passage for the Gen-310s, a decision I never thought was the best course of action, has not improved the situation. I’d like to ask the Council to allow him to apprentice with me. We agreed to it before, and nothing’s changed.”
“No one is denying you’ve done well with the subject, Samuel,” Nyla-298 said smoothly. Althea enjoyed hearing an older version of her friend Nyla-313’s voice, gentle but direct, and always poised. “But he’s caused too many problems. I’m worried about the effect he’ll have on the 310 generation. We know what happened to Inga-296. That was a direct result of her work with him.”
“That was ten years ago,” Samuel said.