It didn't feel quite right, but then neither did the suit. But since he was already giving the order, she programmed a bagel from the AutoChef.
"You can do better than that."
"I'm stoked." Her office wasn't the only place she could pace, she reminded herself, and began to do so while biting into the bagel. "Something's going to come."
"Data on-screen then."
Acknowledged. Match one of fifty-six . ..
"Fifty-six?" Eve stopped pacing. "That can't be right. Even figuring the amount of time, number of students, you wouldn't have so many visual matches. You can't... wait."
She stared at match one.
Delaney, Brianne, DOB February 16, 2024, Boston, Massachusetts. Parents Brian and Myra Delaney nee Copley. No siblings. Marri
ed Alistar, George, June 18, 2046. Offspring: Peter, September 12, 2048; Laura, March 14, 2050. Resides Athens, Greece.
Matched with O'Brian, Bridget, DOB August 9, 2039, Ennis, Ireland. Parents Seamus and Margaret O'Brian nee Ryan. Both deceased. No siblings. Legal guardianship to Samuels, Eva, and upon her death Samuels, Evelyn. Currently enrolled and residing Brookhollow College, New Hampshire.
"Computer, pause. She had a kid at twelve?" Eve asked.
"It happens," Roarke said, "but-"
"Yeah, but. Computer images only, split screen, magnify fifty percent.'
Working . . .
As they came on, Eve stepped closer. "Same coloring, that's fine. The red hair, the white skin, freckles, green eyes. I'd say the odds are reasonable for those inherited traits. Same nose, same mouth, same shape of the eyes, the face. I bet you could count the fricking freckles and get the same number for each. Kid's like a miniature of the woman. Like a ..."
"Clone," Roarke finished quietly. "Christ Jesus."
Eve took a breath, then another. "Computer, run the next match.
It took an hour, and the sickness came into the center of her being and lay there like a tumor.
"They've been cloning girls. Not just messing with DNA to boost intellect or appearance. Not just designing babies or tuning them up physically, intellectually, to enhance. But creating them. Flipping off international law and creating them. Selling them. Some into marriage," Eve continued, staring at the screen. "Some into the market place. Some created to continue to work. Doctors, teachers, lab techs thought they were designing babies, training LCs. But it's worse, worse than both."
"There are rumbles now and then about underground reproduce cloning research, even the occasional claim of success. But the laws are so strict, so onerous and universal, no one's come out and proved it.
"How does it work? Do you know?"
"Not precisely. Not remotely, actually. We do some research cloning-well within the parameters of the law. For tissue, organs. A cell implanted in a simulated female egg, triggered electrically. If it’s privatized, as ours would be, the cells are donated by the clients, who would pay handsomely for the generated replacement tissues, which would have no risk of being rejected after transplant. I'd have to gather that in reproductive cloning, you'd have cells, and actual eggs-once merged- would be implanted in a womb."
"Whose?"
"Well, that's a question."
"I've got to get this to the commander, get the go-ahead and get to the school. You can fill Louise in on this."
"I can."
"He'd have made billions on this," Eve added.
"Grossed."
"I'll say it's gross."
"No, no." It was a relief to laugh. "Gross income. It would cost-has to cost enormously to run the labs, develop the technology, the school, the network. The net income would be substantial, I'd think, but Eve, the cost, the risk? I think you're looking at a labor of love."