Authors: Sophie McKenzie
‘Never heard of you,’ I said, sitting up.
‘Good.’ Another smile curled across Amanda Lennox’s mouth. ‘But you’ll have heard of the organisation I work for. I’m the new chief.’
‘The new chief of what?’
‘The Righteous Army against Genetic Engineering, of course,’ she said. ‘Also known as RAGE.’
45
‘Clones of
me
?’ I gazed around the dimly-lit room. There had to be nearly twenty embryos in here. ‘
All
of them?’
Elijah nodded. ‘I tried to clone other people – male and female – but your blastocysts are the only ones that have survived in the artificial womb.’
‘Why?’ I said. ‘Why do you want so many babies? Why are you trying to make an artificial womb?’
Elijah frowned. ‘Because I can,’ he said, as if it were too obvious an answer to be necessary. ‘It is great science.’
‘Why were my clones the only ones that worked?’ I asked.
‘I don’t know,’ Elijah admitted, ‘but I think it’s connected to this special property in your blood . . . in your DNA. That’s why I brought you here, to
Calla, Rachel, to find out what it is in your genetic make-up that makes this possible.’ He waved his arm to indicate the room. ‘And it’s also why I’ve brought you here now
. . . to ask for your help.’
‘My help?’
‘Over here.’ Elijah pointed to a pod I hadn’t noticed before, right in the corner of the room.
I gasped. The pod held a fully-grown baby, or so it looked to me. Ten fingers. Ten toes. Her little legs were kicking at the syrupy liquid. I put my hand on the glass case and the baby must have
felt the vibration because her head turned towards me.
I stared into her open blue eyes, totally shocked. ‘This is a clone of
me
?’ I said.
‘Yes,’ Elijah replied. ‘A full genetic replica.’ He paused. ‘I call her Aphrodite. It’s just over eight months since I created her. She’s stronger than
the others, the only one to have survived more than a few weeks, until this new batch.’
I stared at the baby, my horror mounting. A baby growing in a pod. Worse, a clone of
me.
It was a freak show. Disgusting.
Elijah’s radio crackled. He held the handset to his ear. Paul’s voice came through.
‘The boat engine is damaged beyond our ability to repair it here, sir,’ he said.
Elijah swore. ‘Get back to the house,’ he snarled. ‘Find out why John is taking so long to get Jamieson on the line.’
My ears pricked up.
Who was Jamieson?
Elijah switched off the radio and ran his hand through his hair. ‘Okay, Rachel,’ he said. ‘This is the situation. Lewis and Theo have escaped.’ Elijah spoke calmly.
‘But they will be back. And they will bring the police. This work I’m doing is illegal and whoever comes and whatever they do, there is a strong chance we will be overcome and all these
babies . . . all these little Rachels . . . will die.’
I stared around the room. Most of the tiny shapes in the pods didn’t even look human.
And yet they
were.
I couldn’t get my head around it. All I knew for sure was that creating babies without proper mothers was grotesque.
‘I thought you were working for the government?’ I said. ‘I thought they knew all about this . . . your . . . research . . . Surely the police won’t destroy
it?’
‘I’ve told you already, I am not working for the government, Rachel, though my backer has powerful government contacts. Milo lied to convince you that you were Daniel’s only
hope. But it is not true. When the police come, they will destroy this work. Unwittingly or on purpose, they will destroy it.’
‘Can’t you move the . . . the embryos?’
‘Not without moving all of them
and
the central tank at the same time – or organising an individual tank for each case.’
‘Why?’
‘Without the nutrients – especially the liquid oxygen – from the tank, they won’t survive more than a few minutes.’
Elijah put his hand on the case containing the fully-grown baby. He tapped his finger and she moved her head in his direction. ‘There is a chance for Aphrodite,’ he said softly.
‘She may be ready . . . may be able to survive outside her artificial womb.’ He looked at me. ‘It’s a risk, especially without proper neonatal care, but many ordinary babies
live far earlier than her thirty-six weeks.’
I met his eyes. ‘Why are you telling me this?’
‘Because I want you to help me give birth to her . . . to release her from the case . . . I can’t do it alone.’
‘
Me?
’
‘I was going to use Milo – he is, right now, back at the house waiting for me to call him – but it strikes me
you
would be better,’ Elijah said. ‘I think you
will care for her more. And she will need a lot of care. Once she is in the world, you will have to take her back to the house and look after her. Keep her safe until whatever happens is over. I
must stay here, do what I can for my younger experiments, but if we can extract Aphrodite from her artificial womb, we have a good chance of keeping her safe.’
My eyes widened. ‘No
way
,’ I said. ‘I can’t look after a
baby.
’
‘I can’t force you to do this, Rachel, but I can’t do it myself. I must prepare for the police attack. Apart from Milo we are just three men, with three guns and no way off the
island. I hope that Don Jamieson will get here in time to save us, but there is no guarantee.’
‘Who is Don Jamieson?’
‘My backer. The man who is paying for all this – our research, our food . . .’ He hesitated. ‘So, will you help me with Aphrodite?’
I shook my head. ‘Suppose . . . suppose she dies?’ I said.
‘Then the Aphrodite Experiment will have failed and I have to hope that we can protect the clinic and the other embryos.’ Elijah turned his keen brown eyes onto me again.
‘Rachel, I need her to live. There are many tests to do on her once she is alive.’
‘What tests?’ I didn’t like the sound of that.
Elijah waved his little finger dismissively. ‘Nothing harmful. We can discuss that later. Now, are you ready? We must start.’
‘
Now?
’
‘Yes.’ Elijah walked round the other side of the glass pod and pulled on a pair of rubber gloves. ‘Fetch a blanket from that pile under the computer table over there, and clear
some space – it’s not nearly warm enough in this room for a baby.’
I walked over to the table he had indicated and took a soft blanket from the pile underneath it. Then I shunted one of the terminals along the table and laid out the blanket in the space. I
worked silently, in a total daze. I was about to attend a birth. The weirdest birth of all time, without a mother . . . or . . .
‘Focus, Rachel.’ Elijah snapped the end of his latex glove against his skin. ‘I need you over here, now.’
As I walked back to him, his radio beeped again. He cursed and ripped off the gloves.
‘Yes?’ he barked into the handset.
John’s voice answered: ‘Patching Don Jamieson through to terminal two, sir.’
Elijah turned to the computer at the end of the table and tapped a couple of keys. The screen fizzled, then a balding, middle-aged man appeared, scowling, in the centre of the screen.
‘What the hell is going on, Elijah?’ His voice was deep, with a strong Scottish accent.
‘Our cover is blown.’
‘How?’ Jamieson spat.
‘Doesn’t matter. I anticipate an attack within hours,’ Elijah said. ‘The Aphrodite Experiment is under threat. We need to leave as soon as possible.’
‘Then leave.’ Don Jamieson swore. ‘Why do you need my help?’
Elijah rolled his eyes. ‘Don, we are three men and a disabled boy with a handful of small guns and no working boat. We can’t do this alone.’
A pause, then Jamieson spoke. ‘I’ll send a copter. It should be with you in an hour.’
‘Thank you. Over.’ Elijah flicked off the radio and pulled on another pair of gloves.
‘Where will you . . . we . . . go?’ I said.
‘Later.’ Elijah flicked his hand again. ‘Now, put on some gloves and get ready to hold her while I dismantle the tubing. We’re going to have to move fast.’
He cursed again, then reached for a lever I hadn’t noticed at the end of the case. He gave it a twist and the syrupy liquid that held the baby in suspension started draining slowly into
the compartment beneath the pod.
I backed further away from the pod. ‘If your research is all about Aphrodite and these other babies, why do you need me?’ I said.
‘Please, Rachel. I cannot explain it all now.’
I shook my head. The liquid cleared from around the baby as I pulled on a pair of latex gloves. As soon as Aphrodite’s toe touched the bottom of the case, Elijah grasped the sides of the
pod.
‘Get ready to hold her, Rachel. One hand under her neck, the other on her lower back. Come
on.
She’s just a baby. She won’t bite you.’
Bloody hell.
‘Okay,’ I agreed, holding out my gloved hands. Elijah fiddled with the catches for a second, then opened up the pod. The remaining liquid poured out, splashing, lukewarm, over my
bare feet and onto the floor around us. I reached for Aphrodite. She was unbelievably light and fragile. Scarily floppy, in fact.
‘Ease her down onto the table,’ Elijah ordered, placing the sides of the pod on the floor. ‘Cup her head and neck in your palm.’
I did what he told me. My heart was totally in my mouth. This was a
real
baby. A million thoughts crowded into my head as Elijah bent over her, his deft fingers gently stroking her
arm.
‘There.’ He stood back. ‘Now she must breathe alone.’
I waited, holding my own breath, my hand still under Aphrodite’s head. The liquid had drained fully away now and my sore, bare feet were soaked, but I barely noticed.
Aphrodite was still limp in my hands. Her eyes were shut, her face an alarming shade of blue.
I looked up at Elijah. ‘What’s wrong?’ I said. ‘Why isn’t she breathing?’
Elijah shook his head. ‘Bring her over here.’
I picked her up and followed Elijah to the dry table where I’d laid out the blanket. I set the baby down as gently as I could, then stood back, my heart thumping.
‘Come on, come on,’ Elijah muttered under his breath. He started talking to himself in Spanish which, I remembered, was the language he’d been brought up speaking. It sounded
as if he were giving himself instructions. After a moment he inserted his little finger into the baby’s mouth, gently turning her head sideways. A trickle of thick fluid dribbled out, then
her face scrunched up.
‘
Waaa!
’ It was a thinner wail than I thought babies made; more like the sound of a kitten meowing.
Elijah prodded at the baby with his finger.
‘What are you doing?’
‘Testing her reflexes,’ he said. A minute later he stood back, a satisfied expression on his face. ‘An Apgar of nine. She’s fine. Take off your gloves, wrap her and pick
her up. Be real careful around her neck, remember.’
I hesitated. The idea of picking up such a tiny, floppy scrap of life again was terrifying.
‘Rachel,
please.
’
Reluctantly, I took off my gloves and wrapped the blanket over the baby, tucking it under and round her tiny body. God, she was
so
fragile. The babies I’d seen in the past had all
been chubbier and more robust-looking than this. Aphrodite felt like she might break in my hands.
I bound the blanket round her a third time, tucking it carefully under her head. The baby stopped crying and looked up at me. Her eyes were blue. My heart missed a beat. This was a clone of me .
. . this was how I’d looked as a baby.
‘Is she really all right?’ I said, looking anxiously at Elijah. ‘She’s just so . . . so . . . delicate.’
Elijah was studying me, an amused expression on his face. ‘She’s perfectly normal. No vernix, even . . . I don’t know why,’ he said.
I nodded, though I hadn’t understood the last part of what he’d said.
‘Hold her closer, she needs to be kept warm.’ Elijah took off his rubber gloves.
I held the baby close. I could feel her tiny heart racing away and the warmth of her body. I took one trembling finger and touched her little cheek. The skin was soft and smooth.
With a jolt I felt the pull of the blood tie. This was my sister. I glanced over my shoulder at the less developed embryos. These were
all
my sisters. But this one was properly
alive
. As I stared back at her tiny, perfectly-formed face, her mouth curved into what could have been a smile.
‘Why did you call her Aphrodite?’ I said.
‘Aphrodite is the goddess of beauty, famous for being born from the sea,’ Elijah said. ‘I thought it was appropriate, but she should have an everyday name too. Just as Apollo
is also Theo and you are Rachel
and
Artemis.’ He paused. ‘Why don’t
you
choose her name.’
I flashed him a glance. I knew he was manipulating me, trying to make me care about the baby. Part of me wanted to tell him to shove his name-choosing. On the other hand, I had to admit, it was
pretty cool being able to pick any name I wanted.
‘Grace,’ I said, gazing down at the baby. ‘I’d like to call her Grace.’
‘Fine, Grace it is.’ Elijah nodded approvingly. ‘Now make sure she’s sheltered from the wind under that big jacket you’re wearing and take her back to the house. I
want you to keep her and yourself safe until the helicopter arrives.’
‘You’re still planning to do tests on us?’ I asked, remembering what he’d said earlier.
‘Of course.’ Elijah nodded, flicking his little finger at me impatiently. ‘Now go.’
‘But what about feeding and . . . and nappies . . .?’ I stammered, feeling the panic rise. ‘I don’t know that—’
‘Girls younger than you have looked after babies before,’ Elijah said dismissively. ‘You’ll find some formula milk and bottles and sterilising equipment in the storeroom.
Nappies too, I think. Get Milo to help you find what you need.’
We left the clinic as Elijah’s radio mic beeped again. I could hear Paul on the other end, this time asking what they needed to pack for the escape off the island. Elijah stopped walking
to talk to him, but waved me on to the house.