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Authors: Trish Moran

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‘It beggars belief that this research continued to such a level!' a woman said. She turned to Sir Philip, ‘Did no one raise any objections to the extent the research had progressed?'

‘Dr Miranda Cheung did, five years ago!' Abel said.

‘But, unfortunately, Dr Cheung died in a tragic accident before she was able to give detailed information about her fears,' Sir Philip quickly countered. ‘But now we have been made fully aware of the extent of the medical developments here, we are working together to deal with this situation as best we can. The government and Abel, as leader of the, erm, Labs, have our full cooperation.'

‘The Labs?' a young reporter called out.

Abel explained the origin of the term.

‘How do you see life for the … Labs … in the future?' another reporter asked.

‘We would like to integrate fully with the Non-Lab world,' Abel said. ‘Live alongside you, as equals.'

‘How many Labs are there?' another reporter asked.

‘There are nearly one thousand at the Centre who will move to the new compound being built for them on the Centre's land. Not all have reached maturity yet, though, so they will be moved out gradually,' Abel told him.

‘How will this all be funded?' a woman asked.

‘Completely by the Centre,' Sir Philip answered.

‘What makes the Labs different from us humans? Have you any special powers?' the same reporter asked.

Abel shook his head, ‘No; though we are programmed to develop to a greater level of fitness and strength. We do need to follow a strict exercise regime to maintain this level once we leave the capsules, as your people do. Our intellectual development, also, has been programmed during our formative years.'

They spent the next hour answering questions before Sir Philip stood up and signalled the end of the interview.

‘What about the donors of the stem cells? What rights do they have?' a reporter called out.

‘I'm afraid that we are not at liberty to say. We are, at present holding talks with the donors and their lawyers,' Sir Philip answered. ‘Now I'm afraid I must close this question time. A government-appointed team is to make a tour of the new compound for the newly freed Labs. They will make their findings and observations public within a few days. Thank you, ladies and gentlemen!'

Keith switched off the television and looked around at the others.

‘Abel was right. This is just the beginning of the story!'

‘They weren't too critical of the Labs, were they?' Johnny said.

‘Yes, they were more critical of the Centre staff,' his brother added.

‘Isaac told me that several of the subscribers are arriving for talks with the Centre staff and the government officials tomorrow!' Ruby told them. ‘His uncle said it is all hush-hush at the moment!'

‘Abel is pushing our lawyers to establish the Labs as a race as soon as possible. Amnesty International has said we have a strong case,' Keith said. ‘They think that our demands for equal rights to Non-Labs should be met.'

‘Celia has arranged for me to work with the newly freed Labs on the Compound. They will need some help fitting in with Non-Lab life, just like you did,' Ruby said. ‘I will have accommodation at the Centre; we don't want anyone connecting me with you yet.'

‘We will miss you, Ruby!' Johnny said.

‘Yes,' Leon agreed. ‘First we lose Celia and now you!'

‘We'll be able to meet up some evenings and weekends!' Ruby told them.

‘You will be working
alongside
Abel!' Johnny pointed out.

‘Yes, I'll need a break every now and again!' Ruby said, only half joking.

Meanwhile, at the Centre, Celia was searching through files on the computer. She clicked her tongue in frustration as twice she came up against ‘Access Denied' screens. Her brow furrowed as she once again keyed a password onto the screen and her face lit up as the screen changed to show a list of data. She pulled a memory stick out of her pocket and quickly copied some of the information onto it. As she heard voices nearing the room, she pulled the memory stick out and pushed it into her pocket; closing the screen in front of her. She had opened a different file as two people entered the office.

‘Hi, Fil, Valerie,' she swung her chair round. ‘I was just taking a look at the organisation of the Centre data. The man from the MoD seemed to think that splitting the data in three sections, interdependent on each other, would be the best way to safeguard it from future misuse.'

‘Leave that to them to sort out, Celia,' Valerie replied. ‘You've enough to worry about for the moment organising the new compound.'

As the three of them sat and discussed arrangements for the next few days, Celia fingered the memory stick in her pocket.

Chapter Thirteen

‘Is this
all
we are to expect?' he walked briskly, hands plunged into his pockets. She struggled to keep up with him.

‘But Abel is asking for equal rights for us, the same as the Non-Labs!'

‘And we are all to sit quietly, waiting to see if they are going to be gracious enough to grant us our rights! Grateful for any crumbs they toss our way. Existing as second-class citizens.'

He stopped and stood looking at the ground. Slowly he raised his head.

‘No! That's not good enough for me! No substandard race is going to treat
me
like this!'

She looked at his face. ‘What are you going to do about it?'

‘I am going to show them who
is
superior!'

He started to walk again.

She stood for a moment, then hurried to his side.

‘How are you going to do that?'

He walked on in silence for a while, then stopped and faced her again.

‘The Centre. It was not all bad, you know.'

‘They were creating us Labs as spare parts for their own people!' she protested.

He nodded slowly.

‘Yes, but by creating us they were able to create people of a much higher standard than their own flawed species! Think of the Centre as just the springboard for a future perfect race! Do you want to be part of the new world?'

Chapter Fourteen

‘Thank you for attending this meeting at such short notice,' Sir Philip nodded to the people sat around the large oval table in the Centre's conference rooms.

‘Well, we are all greatly shocked by this news!' one of the men said.

‘Stunned!' echoed another to a chorus of murmurs.

‘Surely we aren't the only subscribers?' asked one, looking around the table.

‘No. There are too many to bring together for one meeting. This is the first meeting of subscribers and lawyers in the UK. Similar ones are being arranged in other countries with subscribers involved with the Centre,' Sir Philip told them. ‘I'm sure you will have many questions for us.'

‘I would like to speak on behalf of the six subscribers that I have been asked to represent,' a silver-haired man stood up. ‘First of all, why were my clients not informed of the true nature of the operations carried out at the Centre? They were all led to believe that stem cell research enabled replacement organs for themselves and/or their children.'

John Baxman stood up, ‘Before each operation, the patient, or the patient's parents in the case of a minor, were given a brief outline of what the operation would involve. Until recently, the human cell … products … we used were simply seen as being just that, products of our research, an extension of a group of cells. When we were made aware of their unexpected advanced level of development, we immediately called a halt to all operations.'

‘And suspended all stem cell development until further notice,' Sir Philip added.

There was a moment's silence and then an older man spoke up.

‘So, what we have now are clones of ourselves, or our children, walking freely around?'

‘And these clones are campaigning for their own rights as citizens?' another man said.

‘I believe they are actually campaigning to be recognised as a race,' the lawyer told them.

‘A race that we have unwittingly paid millions of pounds to produce!' a woman added.

‘God! Wouldn't it be creepy to suddenly come upon an exact copy of yourself walking along the street?' a young woman shuddered.

‘I think it would be really cool to meet
me
, face to face, in the flesh!' a young British pop star stood up. ‘Hey! We could perform together at my next concert! Me and my clone! Hey, yeah! Mirror images!' He began to play an imaginary guitar.

‘We are not talking about some gimmicky trick!' John Baxman said tersely.

The pop star threw up his hands. ‘OK! I know – clones are for life, not just for Christmas!'

His wife sighed and pulled him back down into his seat, ‘Can't you
ever
take anything seriously, Zorro?'

Everyone's attention was pulled back by the sob of another older woman.

‘So, my husband and I paid millions of pounds to save my daughter, who is suffering from a rare, inoperable brain tumour. And now you are telling me we can't save her? But there'll be an exact copy of her walking around when she … if she …?' She broke down in tears.

‘Hey, come on, love. Let's not be too pessimistic here. I'm sure there'll be something they can do; with the latest medical advancements …' her husband tried to comfort her. ‘They've only
suspended
stem cell research, for the moment. The Centre owes us at least
some
help! After all, they did take our money!'

‘Yes, that's another thing. What about the money we invested? Will we be refunded fully?' the older man asked.

‘Hey! We invested because we all have money to spare!' the pop star, Zorro, pointed out. ‘I, for one, would like to be involved in the future of the clones. Labs, they call themselves, don't they? We saw some of them on the telly the other week, didn't we, honey?'

‘Yeah! You're right, Zorro, baby! They do need our help, we owe it to them! You're all heart under that tough veneer, baby boy!' she leaned forwards and kissed him loudly.

Several of the other people tutted impatiently.

‘Well, I think, Zorro is right about the Labs needing as much support as they can get,' a young woman said. ‘We subscribers are innocent in all this. But so are the Labs!'

Chapter Fifteen

Vincent Craig watched the photographs playing on his computer screen. He focussed on one.

There she was, smiling up at the camera. Teeth white against shiny black skin; little pigtails sticking out at angles from her head. He remembered the outfit she was wearing, red shorts and a matching T-shirt with a picture of a puppy on the front! How she'd loved that outfit. They had always promised that one day, when she was bigger; she'd have her own real puppy.

He sighed deeply. But that day had never come. Even though they had spent a fortune on ensuring a long and happy life for her, the car crash that had left him in a wheelchair had ended her short life. All the money they had spent on stem cell research at the Centre in England had been no use. She had died instantly on impact. She wouldn't have felt any pain; the doctors had told him and her mother. But they had lived with the pain every day. He had never been able to move on. Vanessa, Marissa's mother, had recovered from her injuries over the years. She had tried to make him think of the future; had even suggested that they try for another baby, as they had planned when Marissa was alive. Her words had fallen on deaf ears. Finally, she had left him and was now married for the second time with two boys. She kept in touch with him, occasionally phoning, and there was always a Christmas card and a birthday card from her.

He watched as several other pictures played on the screen, then paused another one. This one was of Vanessa and Marissa on her fourth birthday; her last one. He looked carefully at Vanessa. She was a good-looking woman, smooth black skin, large oval brown eyes. Her hair was braided into narrow plaits, with beads threaded into the end of each one. He had always laughed when she groaned about the time it took to have it done at the hairdresser's.

‘So, why do you put yourself through it?' he had asked her.

‘Men!' she had shook her head. ‘You just don't understand, do you?'

He hadn't been surprised to hear her voice on the phone a few weeks ago, when the news about the Centre in England had been made public.

‘Just wondered if you were OK, Vince,' she had said. ‘With the Centre in the news so much at the moment.'

‘Do you think there's a possibility that Marissa's … cells … were not destroyed?' he had asked her.

‘We did request that they were. And cancelled our subscription, when … when we lost Marissa,' she had replied. ‘Why would they keep them?'

‘I don't know. They seem to have done lots of things you wouldn't expect them to,' he said.

‘I doubt it, Vince. I keep telling you, you must let yourself move on! Anyway, how are you keeping these days? What are your summer plans? You know you're always welcome to drop by here anytime you want to, if you're over visiting your sister,' she continued. ‘Bill and the boys would love to meet you.'

‘I'm pretty busy at the moment, Vanessa, I don't think I'll be going anywhere for the next few months,' he had replied.

‘You work too hard, Vince! Relax sometimes!' she had laughed.

He looked at the picture of Marissa and her mother again, then shut down the computer and determinedly turned his mind back to his work.

Chapter Sixteen

Two months later Ruby stepped down from the bus at a stop near the Centre. She smiled as she turned off the main road and began to walk towards the main entrance. Though she loved working with the Labs, she had enjoyed spending the weekend with Keith, Dette, and the twins.

They had spent the afternoon watching the twins play in a friendly match with the local football team. They had been singled out when they had played for the college team a few weeks earlier. There were talks of them playing for Castlewell Rovers.

Their college tutor was very excited.

‘You boys have the makings of stars! I mean big time!' he enthused. ‘Though it's a great team, Castlewell Rovers isn't going to be able to hold you for long; not when the bigger teams see what you can do!'

There was an air of great excitement when Celia had joined them on Saturday evening. Keith also had news to tell the others. He talked eagerly of an idea he had proposed.

‘I have spoken to Jade, Sakura, and Miyu, and some other Labs gifted in music, with the idea of holding a concert to raise public awareness of the Labs,' Keith said. ‘Simon is also eager to help and is going to contact talented Non-Labs to perform. Each musician will perform, without admitting to being Lab or Non-Lab. Hopefully we can promote similarities rather than differences between us.'

‘That's a great idea, Keith!' Ruby said. ‘Isaac could see if his uncle has contacts with celebrities who want to perform!'

‘We have already started rehearsals at Manchester University. I worked with the university sound technician. He said I was a natural!' Keith smiled. ‘He asked me to work with him on the night!'

He continued to talk about different equipment they had used and the various effects they were aiming for. Ruby hadn't understood much, but she was pleased to see him so animated. Another Lab working alongside a Non-Lab happily – there was hope for the future!

Ruby's good mood continued as she walked towards the entrance and noticed there were no reporters hanging around.

Suddenly, a group of teenage boys appeared from nowhere, walking along the road towards her.

‘Told you there wouldn't be a way in!' one of them muttered.

‘We could have found one! You give up to easily!' another muttered.

‘Yeah! You're scared you're going to bump into one of them freaks!' the third jeered.

Ruby stopped in front of them.

‘They're not freaks!' she said angrily. ‘There is not much difference between Labs and Non-Labs!'

‘Yeah?' the second boy stepped up to her. ‘And how would you know?'

‘Maybe she's a freak herself!' the third boy's eyes narrowed.

The first boy grabbed her arm, ‘Let's find out, shall we?'

Ruby swung her free arm and sent him flying backwards, ‘Get your hands off me!'

Another of them grabbed her from behind, pinning her arms to her sides. She stamped hard on his foot.

The other boy, recovering his breath, put his face close to hers, ‘That was a mistake!'

As he grabbed her hair, a shout was heard. Ruby breathed a sigh of relief as she recognised Abel's voice.

‘Let her go,
now
!' he ordered.

‘She's only one of them freaks! Why should you care?' the boy muttered, releasing his grip slowly.

‘Let's go, Steve!' one of the others muttered.

By this time Abel stood in front of them.

‘That's right, Steve! You'd better go!
She's
not one of
those freaks
!' He stood up tall and menacing. ‘But
I
am!'

Two of the boys had started to back off. Steve slowly put his hands down and started to follow his friends.

‘Watch your back!' he hissed at Ruby as her left.

Abel grabbed his arm and pulled him around to face him, ‘No!
You
watch
your
back! If any harm comes to her, or to
any
of my friends, you will have
me
to deal with!'

Steve winced as Abel released his arm and rubbed it. He scurried after his friends.

‘Thank you!' Ruby said, rubbing her arms.

‘That was foolish, Ruby,' Abel said. ‘You are no match for three youths!'

‘I know, but I just couldn't listen to them calling Labs freaks! I hate it!' she said stubbornly.

They both watched as a long back car with tinted windows drove past and turned into the Centre gates.

Abel nodded in the direction of the car, ‘I am to meet with the Lab lawyers today to formulate a defence against the accusations of murder that are being filed against me.'

Ruby squeezed his arm, ‘I'm sure everything will work out, Abel! They can't hold you responsible for defending your own people!'

He was silent. Ruby was suddenly aware of his eyes on her hand and quickly released his arm.

‘I'd better get a move on!' she said and began to walk towards the Centre entrance. She stopped as Abel called her name.

‘You are a loyal friend to the Labs,' he continued. ‘You may find yourself in similar situations, targeted by the Non-Labs who wish ill on us. You must learn to defend yourself. I will teach you. Starting tomorrow.'

Surprised, Ruby merely nodded before setting off for the first of many identical prefabs. This one was the home of Jill, a well-spoken English subscriber, and Beth, a gentle, quiet girl with a Scottish lilt to her voice.

The newly awakened Labs were happy with their living arrangements, quickly settling into their new surroundings and all eager to learn more.

After greeting her, Jill told her that they had been given a present by a well-known pop star. The three girls set out for the Hall, which was used as a study area at one end, equipped with computers and a dance and gym area at the other. As they entered, a girl was playing a baby grand piano while her twin performed elegant ballet steps nearby. A handwritten card was propped up on the piano:

To all our new friends, especially the musical ones! Play and enjoy! X Zorro'

Ruby read it and smiled to herself. She had heard of his positive attitude to the Labs from Abel.

Ruby sat in the office talking to Celia later that morning.

‘The lawyer has drawn up a convincing argument to put forward for Abel at the court case next week. Abel says he would also like to speak himself,' Celia told her. ‘I'm not so sure that's a good idea! He can still be so volatile!'

‘He shows more self-control, and has a more positive outlook lately, Celia,' Ruby ventured. ‘And presenting his own argument, as a Lab, might carry more weight.'

Celia shrugged, ‘I suppose you could be right. Anyway, how did today go?'

Ruby described some of the events of the day.

‘Most of the houses are pretty much organised now. Some of the Labs have been talking about venturing beyond the Compound. I said we could discuss the different situations they could find themselves in – shopping, going to the cinema, sightseeing etc. But this time I will not be showing students around, with a role in life and with their true identities hidden, will I?' She looked at Celia, ‘I am afraid of what the reaction to Labs in a Non-Lab world will be.'

Celia nodded, ‘As we all are, Ruby! I think we have to see what the next few weeks will bring!'

‘Thank goodness the court case went well, Abel!' Dette hugged him.

‘When Ruby told us you planned to speak on your own behalf, we did feel some trepidation!' Keith admitted, smiling.

‘So, tell us what happened!' Johnny urged him as his brother nodded his head eagerly.

‘O'Brien, our lawyer, presented our, my, defence very well. He insisted that any killing we had committed was carried out in self-defence. We did not kill wantonly, only to protect our own species. Wexford, the Non-Lab lawyer, refused to accept this and said that our victims were innocent and unarmed. O'Brien pointed out that the Labs used to replace human organs were also innocent and unarmed. Finally the judge decided in our favour!'

‘Thank goodness!' said Ruby.

‘What did you say on your own behalf, Abel?' Celia asked him.

Abel grinned, ‘Right to the last minute, Celia was trying to persuade me to remain silent! But, I felt I had the chance to open a door for better communications between Labs and Non-Labs; so I told them how I felt, now, about things …' His mind wandered back to the courthouse earlier in the day.

He was seated beside Connelly and Celia, behind a large wooden table at the front of the court. He stood up and faced the judge and turned to give a brief bow to Wexford and his assistant.

‘I have to admit I am very pleased with today's verdict,' he had started.

Wexford had snorted.

‘I also have to admit that when I first awoke in the Non-Lab world; my earliest experiences left me with bitter feelings towards all Non-Labs. My only concern was to protect my own kind and to strive to somehow win freedom for us. As you have heard, we replaced our own kind, condemned to death, with innocent Non-Labs. And I felt no compunction. At all.'

Wexford jerked his head up as if to protest. Abel raised his hand.

‘Those
were
my feeling. It seems a long time ago now. I have since come to realise
all
life is valuable; be it Lab or Non-Lab. I now value several Non-Labs as close, trusted friends. I hope we can move on and work together so we can live together peacefully, and equally.'

He looked at the others after he had given them a rough outline of what he had said.

‘Let's hope we can move on now,' Celia said.

‘We still have a lot of work to do!' Abel reminded her. ‘We must arrange a meeting as soon as possible to set out our demands of the Prime Minister. Dermot O'Brien is good, but he is not a Lab!'

Later that week, Abel introduced the lawyer to the others.

‘Dermot O'Brien, this is Keith, Celia, and Dette – Labs – and Ruby – Non-Lab.'

O'Brien shook hands with each of them then sat down and opened his briefcase, ‘Let's look at your demands first and prioritise them.'

‘First of all, we want to be recognised as a race,' Abel said. ‘This will put us in a stronger position to tackle any prejudices as we will be protected by law against racial discrimination. Secondly, we want to have dual nationality – British, as we were created here, and the nationality of our donor. If they meet these demands we will be able to claim our ordinary human rights.'

‘The definition of “race” is not clear and is frequently disputed,' the lawyer told them, picking up a paper. ‘Race can be classed as a geographic race, or people can be defined by physical attributes. Neither of these is relevant to your case.'

‘So we will need new criteria to classify Labs,' Keith pointed out. ‘That may well help with the definition of “race” as it is seen it today.'

‘Under the present law Labs do not qualify for British nationality as they do not have parents born in the UK. They do not have parents! I assume the same problems would arise with the dual nationality request,' Celia said.

‘We need to have proposals to deal with these problems to present to the Prime Minister next week. Or else we will be faced with an even longer delay sorting these out!' the lawyer pointed out.

‘There have already been enough delays!' Abel said.

‘I suggest first of all we define what a Lab is,' the lawyer said. ‘Then consider how Labs can be classified as a race. We must put forward a clear argument on why Labs are entitled to British nationality, and finally dual nationality.'

‘Labs are new, so we will need some new ideas!' Dette remarked.

‘I'll go and get some more coffee and sandwiches,' Ruby offered. ‘I think this is going to be a long session!'

The following morning the Prime Minister picked up the sheaf of papers handed to him by O'Brien.

‘
The Labs are to be recognised as a “race”
. This is under consideration at the moment, I assure you. Mr O'Brien …'

‘Yes, Abel has told me that this is so, but there seems to be some delay, due to the fact that the Labs are not actually defined as a particular group. We have made a suggestion, if you refer to the second sheet, Mr Cartwright …' the lawyer replied.

‘A Lab is to be defined as a human who has been created under laboratory conditions through the process of cloning cells. A Lab must be able to exist independently after a period of maturing.'

The Prime Minister nodded his head after reading and turned back to the first page.

‘As a race, the Labs will have access to all rights of other human races and will have recourse to law if these rights are not upheld. The Labs will be expected to uphold all human responsibilities, and to respect the rights of all human races including other Labs following the laws of their chosen domicile.

All Labs are to have automatic right to citizenship of the country where they are created.

All Labs with donors from other countries will have the right to nationality of that country, in some cases holding dual nationality.'

Mr Cartwright looked up at the other man.

‘I can see the reasoning behind these proposals. But of course, as you will be aware, we must consider each point carefully. The last point will involve discussions with other countries.'

‘We are aware of this, Mr Cartwright, but I must also point out that continued delays are having an adverse effect on the integration of Labs into British society – where they were unwittingly created,' O'Brien replied. ‘If we could at least resolve the first issues, the Labs would feel more confident of their own standing in this country at least. As Simon Armstrong, the US president's son, pointed out only last week, we do not want the chance for a repeat of the apartheid situation in Africa or the bloody battles that had to be fought for African-Americans to gain equality before the Labs are awarded their rights.'

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