Daughter of Nothing

by Eric Kent Edstrom

  “Better for my reputation than being caught alone with two boys, don’t you think?”

  Humphrey snorted, though it wasn’t really a laugh. “I’ll see you later.” He headed down the stairs.

  Jacey turned to look out over the campus, as if the view could offer some perspective on what they’d learned. She replayed the conversation in her head, trying to squeeze more clues from it, but she couldn’t find anything new.

  Vaughan and Humphrey had infected her with their suspicions. The unease warred with the excitement she felt about meeting her mother.

  My mother.

  The closest thing to a parent she’d ever known was Mother Tyeesha. As much as Jacey loved her, the woman had been spread thin caring for so many kids. And each year new ones had arrived on Birthday.

  She turned back to Vaughan, who was looking out the other direction. Toward the sea. She joined him, closed her eyes against the breeze, and breathed it in as if it could cleanse the roiling emotion from her mind. “Yesterday, if someone had asked if I had ever missed having parents, I would have laughed.”

  “Weren’t you ever curious about them?”

  “Of course. But I never missed them,” she said. “No, if you had asked me, I would have said something clever. Like, do you miss not having a third arm?”

  Vaughan laughed, but there was no humor in it. “You’re a strong person, Jacey. I’ve always felt something was missing.”

  “Well, I feel it now.”

  They stood a long time not speaking, each absorbed in their own thoughts, until Jacey’s stomach growled loudly enough that Vaughan heard it.

  He chuckled. “We better go get you something to eat.”

  They descended the spiral stairway and came out onto the quad to find Sensei waiting for them.

  “I must report this to Dr. Carlhagen. Go to your dormitories.” His tone left no room for argument or explanation. Not that she would’ve tried anyway. She and Vaughan had clearly been in the tower alone together, which was a severe infraction.

  Vaughan ran off without so much as a parting glance. But Jacey’s shock froze her feet in place. “It’s not—”

  “Go!” Sensei barked.

  She ran.

  7

  I Didn't Think This Through

  Once the graduating Scions were locked safely away in their waiting rooms, Dr. Carlhagen returned to the transfer room, a large, sterile, white-tiled room dominated by the Neural Synaptic Mapping and Remodeling System. At least, that had been Michael’s name for it. Dr. Carlhagen called it the Transfer Machine. It consisted of two cot-like beds pushed head to head, meeting inside the circular field generator. A thick bundle of data and power cables ran from it to the ceiling.

  Silvio, a dark-haired man in his mid-fifties with a slight paunch and a thick chest, patted the generator wheel. Deep, resonant booms filled the room.

  “So this is where the magic happens, eh?”

  “Not magic, Silvio. Science,” Dr. Carlhagen said. “And please don’t strike the field-generator. It’s a very finely calibrated piece of equipment.”

  Dr. Carlhagen had never liked Dante’s Progenitor. Silvio’s easy smile and self-assured humor had carried the man much farther than his natural talents could have. Dante was his superior in every way, Dr. Carlhagen thought, masking his reflexive sneer by smiling. To fill Dante’s mind with such a small man seemed like a waste of potential.

  But Silvio had been an easy sale at a time when filling Progenitor slots had been more important than screening applicants. That Silvio was still one of the seven richest people in the world just showed how far the human race had fallen.

  “Will you explain the procedure one more time?” Janicka asked. “I’d like to see the dog video.”

  Dr. Carlhagen had wanted someone else—anyone else—to fill the last slot in the first class. But Sarah’s Progenitor had met the minimum requirement: namely, she’d been able to deposit seventy million dollars in an untraceable account.

  In the eighteen years since, she’d gone from mousy and fragile to mousy and plump, the result of a life spent lying on a sofa and allowing her dead husband’s business interests to grow.

  “We’ll look at the dog video in a minute,” he said, then addressed the whole group. “I just want to make sure you are all satisfied with what you’ve seen so far. You have now met your Scions. It should be clear that I’ve delivered exactly what I promised. They are your clones.”

  “Better than clones,” Silvio said with a laugh. “With that body, I’m going to sleep my way around the world for the next twenty years.”

  Elizabeth, Vin’s Progenitor, glowered at Silvio. She was a strikingly regal woman with high-arched brows and perfectly coifed hair. She and Silvio were the only two Progenitors who had known each other prior to this project. Elizabeth had once been famous for a television talk show with worldwide syndication. Her entertainment and personal growth empire still generated billions of dollars annually. She had announced her death five years earlier and had since been living a hermit’s life on an island not far from St. Vitus.

  “Indeed, Silvio. Better than clones,” Dr. Carlhagen said. “I made the improvements you requested, and as you’ve seen in the records, they have been educated to jumpstart your new lives. I cannot guarantee how much of that training will survive the transfer. However, my own studies with dogs and rats are encouraging. You should expect to have greater skills in the areas of fitness, dance, memorization, computation, and so on.”

  “What about jiu-jitsu?” Silvio asked.

  “Especially jiu-jitsu.”

  “Awesome. I’ve been taking lessons. We have some of the best fighters in Brazil, you know.”

  As if Dr. Carlhagen weren’t aware. He’d recruited Sensei Rosa from a very dark corner of Brazil. He continued, “The transfer process is painless. You will lie on one side of the machine, head inside the containment field. Your Scion will lie on the other side. The procedure takes about forty-five minutes. We will first create a neural synaptic map of your brain and then our AI controller will begin the transfer process.”

  “Transfer,” said Ping’s Progenitor, Han. His accent barely hinted at his Chinese heritage. “That’s not really what’s happening, though.”

  A billionaire whose wealth was built from exploiting natural resources in Africa, Han had spent most of his life in New York City. He was almost as famous for his $500 million apartment overlooking Central Park as he was for his philanthropy, which Dr. Carlhagen took a very cynical view of.

  “You’re right, Han. ‘Transfer’ is a convenient term. A better word might be ‘copying.’”

  “And our current bodies?” Janicka asked, looking down at her own sagging torso.

  A ridiculous question. They’d been over this many times. It was even written in 36-point type at the top of the contract. “The transfer process is destructive, Janicka. The mapping process requires the nanites to deconstruct your brain. That will result in the death of your current body.”

  “And how long between death and the rebirth in the Scion?” Han asked.

  “Forty to fifty minutes, during which the nanites transfer to the Scion and carry out their remodeling procedure.”

  “But if they’re clones,” Janicka said, “shouldn’t they already have our exact brains?”

  Dr. Carlhagen hadn’t realized just how stupid Janicka was. “Your clone’s brain is as different from yours as your bodies are. Maybe we should watch the dog video.”

  He limped to a computer monitor and tapped the screen. The dog video was old, part of the original marketing program. He called up the file and started it.

  “This dog was trained to do tricks over the course of six months. The other one was not.” He fast-forwarded the video. “Here they’re being put into the transfer machine. An early prototype, as you can clearly see.” He skipped forward. “And here is the result. The second dog knows every command the first one knew.”

  “But it’s obviously not a clone of the first
one,” Han said. “I’m not sure it was an upgrade.”

  “That wasn’t the point of the video, Han. The technology doesn’t require clones. We use them for your psychological benefit, so that when you wake up in your new body, you feel like you’re home.”

  “Janicka’s Scion sure is an upgrade, though,” Silvio said, with a wink at the woman. “No offense.”

  “None taken,” Janicka said. “Sarah is stunning.” She didn’t seem happy about it, though. “I wasn’t that beautiful when I was her age. I had bad teeth, bad skin, scoliosis, one leg was shorter than the other, and I had terrible eyesight.”

  And she’d only gone downhill from there. Given her list of deficiencies, Dr. Carlhagen wondered how she’d ever secured a husband.

  Elizabeth shrugged. “Can we get started? I’m already officially dead. I want to get back out into the world.”

  “Me too,” Silvio said. “I’m going to return as my bastard son. Do you remember that scandal eighteen years ago, Lizzie? The affair?”

  “I remember.” Elizabeth’s mouth twisted at Silvio’s use of the nickname “Lizzie.” “You came on my show to offer one of your famous and frequent mea culpas.”

  “Yeah, well, that time I was making it up. Killed two birds with one stone, since I’d been looking to get out of my marriage. Plus, the affair story planted the seed, ha, ha, for today. Get it? Planted the seed?”

  “Very good, Silvio,” Dr. Carlhagen said. “And I suppose you’ve arranged your estate so that your so-called bastard son will inherit everything?”

  “Oh yeah, it’s all taken care of. I can hardly wait. I actually made reservations to go skydiving next week. I would have done it earlier, but the doctor said the ticker’s not what it used to be.”

  “I’ve made similar provisions,” Elizabeth said. “But without all the attendant drama of a scandal. I fabricated a paper trail that shows that my only child—God rest her soul—had an illegitimate child of her own during college. My attorneys will ‘discover’ her when I’m ready to go back into the world as Vin.”

  Janicka licked her lips. “I guess I didn’t think this through. I just thought I would go home and go on with my life.”

  Dr. Carlhagen knew he should have checked on their return stories. “The contract clearly states that you were to arrange for your apparent death and the transfer of whatever wealth you chose to keep to your Scion. This is a serious breach.” He emphasized his points by jabbing his cane into the tile floor.

  Janicka burst into tears. “I’m sorry. I never read contracts. Who does?”

  Elizabeth patted Janicka on the shoulder. “You’ll have to come with me to my island. I’ll help you arrange things.” She gave Dr. Carlhagen a you-owe-me-one glance.

  He would, indeed.

  “How about you, Han?” Silvio asked. “You must be looking forward to getting out of the old wheelchair.”

  “Of course I am,” Han said. “But I’m curious that my fellow Progenitors are so set on hoarding their wealth and continuing on in a life already lived. I’ve set up a small trust fund for myself. The rest will go to charity. I plan to study art in Paris.”

  Silvio bit his lower lip, transforming his face into a mask of false seriousness. “That is really cool, man. I respect that. I think it’s crazy, but I respect it.”

  Han turned to Dr. Carlhagen. “The only question I have is who goes first? Ladies?”

  Janicka backed away, waving her hands. “No, no, I’m not ready. I need to psych myself up for this.”

  “I’ll go,” Silvio said. “Do I need to change?”

  “Yes,” Dr. Carlhagen said. “You’ll find a robe in your waiting room.”

  Silvio shouldered past Janicka and left the room.

  Elizabeth wheeled Han out, followed by a sniffling Janicka, who threw nervous looks back at the transfer machine.

  Dr. Carlhagen called for Nurse Smith. “Bring in Dante.”

  A minute later, Nurse Smith guided Dante in.

  “Please lie on the bed,” Dr. Carlhagen told him. “We are going to conduct a brief brain scan, part of an ongoing study of your growth and development here at the Scion School. I will use the results to modify and improve the training of the classes below you.”

  Dante shrugged and got on the bed.

  “Just tuck your head farther up, under the scanner.” Dr. Carlhagen said. “Good. Now, just relax.”

  ° ° °

  TWENTY MINUTES LATER, DR. CARLHAGEN PATTED Silvio on the back and guided him to the machine. “Just lie back and relax.”

  He wasn’t surprised by the Progenitor’s nervousness. The mind was designed to warn the body of danger.

  Dante was already in position, his head inside the containment field. He was also heavily sedated via nano injectors.

  Silvio was a hearty fifty-five years old. A young man from Dr. Carlhagen’s point of view. He lay back and gave Dr. Carlhagen one long last stare. Gone was the joking bravado from before. “Heaven help you if something goes wrong.”

  “Heaven can help no one. Put your faith in science, my friend.”

  Silvio slid his head into the circular containment field, his tightly clasped hands betraying his alarm.

  Dr. Carlhagen felt no concern whatsoever. If anything, he was anxious to get it over with just to get these people off his island. There were other matters he wanted to attend to.

  Best not to think about Jacey.

  The last thing he needed was to overlook some detail in the process and bake one of the Scions. He initiated a Socrates instance on a cart next to the transfer table.

  “Good afternoon, Doctor,” Socrates said. “The subjects’ vitals are stable, if a bit elevated in the Progenitor.”

  “Proceed. A bit of increased blood flow should help things along.”

  The wheel started to spin faster and faster until it became a blur.

  “You’re doing well, Silvio,” Dr. Carlhagen said. The Progenitor didn’t respond. He probably hadn’t even heard. Mapping had an odd effect on one’s auditory senses.

  “Brain mapping begun,” Socrates said. “Nano injector array activated. Shall I sedate the Progenitor?”

  “No.”

  “He’s looking quite nervous.”

  “I said no. I swear, Michael, I won’t need you forever.”

  “Do you think Madam LaFontaine can do this?” the AI asked.

  “Obviously not. But she has incarnations you’ve not yet met.”

  Dr. Carlhagen swore to himself that he’d never deal with a mind-to-box like Michael again. Socrates seemed to possess Michael’s most annoying personality traits, as if the computer had enhanced his flaws as much as it had his intelligence.

  “Shall we begin, Dr. Frankenstein?” Socrates asked. But before Dr. Carlhagen could answer, the professor’s holo transformed into a hag, who intoned: “Eye of newt and toe of frog, Wool of bat and tongue of dog . . .”

  Curse Michael and his infernal literary tongue. Dr. Carlhagen would have deleted Socrates right then. But he couldn’t control the nanites for Dante’s remodeling without Socrates’s AI-hybrid brain.

  And to quote Shakespeare at him, no less. Insufferable.

  If Socrates noticed Dr. Carlhagen’s rage, he didn’t point it out. Perhaps he realized he’d pushed as far as he should.

  “Mapping complete, Doctor. There are significant differences between the two, but analysis predicts that the Scion will have good recall post-transfer. Greater than 99.97% match.”

  “And what’s missing he won’t miss,” Dr. Carlhagen said. “Initiate synaptic remodeling. Have a care around muscle memory, and watch for synaptic loosening. I don’t want to glitch him like we did Tilly.”

  “Would you like to tell me how to tie my shoes while you’re at it?”

  Dr. Carlhagen snorted and turned away. Michael had always been touchy, had never liked being told what to do.

  He left his old colleague to conduct the transfer. He needed to check on Han and make sure Nurse Smith had prepped the women.


  Tricky business, transferring one mind to another. That’s why Dr. Carlhagen had insisted on clones at the outset. That made the fundamental brain structures identical between the source and destination. But even with that, the mind of a fifty-five-year-old man and an eighteen-year-old clone were very different.

  Not that it mattered. Given how he’d pushed forward the technology over the past eighteen years, it wasn’t even necessary to use a clone anymore.

  “I should have put him in Sarah,” Dr. Carlhagen said, then laughed through his nose.

  He pulled his watch from his pocket to check when he could take his next dose of andleprixen.

  Three hours.

  “Damn.”

  Every joint in his body felt full of metal shavings all scraping together. He patted his pockets and found his bottle of pills. He’d just take one more to help him through the next few hours.

  Nurse Smith stopped him at Han’s door. “Sensei is looking for you.”

  “I don’t have time for him right now.”

  “He said it was urgent. Something involving Jacey and Vaughan.”

  Dr. Carlhagen closed his eyes and cursed under his breath. “Where is he?”

  “In the main ward.”

  Dr. Carlhagen pushed through the door to the main ward, an open hall with beds along the walls. Sensei sat cross-legged on the floor, apparently meditating. When Dr. Carlhagen walked in, he opened his eyes and seemed to float to his feet. The man was as graceful as he was strong. And even more dangerous.

  “I discovered Vaughan and Jacey alone together. They were coming from the bell tower.”

  Dr. Carlhagen’s teeth ground, and his grip tightened on his cane. Damn that girl and damn that boy. Dr. Carlhagen had never been a mystic, but it seemed those two were destined to be together.

  “What were they doing there?”

  “I didn’t ask. I sent them to their dormitories and then came straight here.”

  That boy was no different than Charles had been, using his silky words to lure a girl into a compromising situation.