The Jesus Incident

Puzzled, Oakes turned to look at the screen, saw his own likeness there. Below the image, a biographical printout was rolling. He stared at the heading: "Morgan Lon Oakes. Ref. Original File, Morgan Hempstead, cell dono...."

Oakes found it difficult to breathe. It was a trick! He glanced at Legata and the cold stare he met there iced his backbone.

"Morga...." How sweet her voice sounded. "...I found your records, Morgan. See Ship's imprimatur on the printout? Ship vouches for the truth of this record."

A tic twitched the corner of Oakes' left eyelid. He tried to swallow.

This is not happening! Muttering drifted through the room. "Oakes a clone? Ship's eyes!"

Legata stepped away from the console, moved to within a meter of Oakes. "Your nam.... that's the name of the woman who bore you - for a fee."

Oakes found his voice: "This is a lie! My parent.... our sun went nov....... ."

"Ship says not so." She waved at the screen. "See?"

The data continued to roll: Date of cell implantation, address of pseudo-parents, name....

Lewis came up to stand at Oakes' shoulder. "Why, Legata?" There was no denying the amusement in his voice.

She refused to take her attention from the stricken look on Oakes' face. Why do I want to comfort him?

"The Scream Room was a mistake," she whispered.

Someone off toward the edge of the room shouted: "Clones first! Send the clone out!" It began as a chant, grew to a pounding rage: "Send the clone out!"

Oakes screamed: "No!"

But hands grabbed him and Legata was powerless to prevent it in the crush of people without using her great strength to kill. She found herself unable to do this. Oakes' voice screaming: "No! Please, no!" grew fainter across the room, out into the passage, was lost in the shouting of the mob.

Lewis moved to the console, shut off the data, keyed a high sensor still free of the Spi

***

This fetus ca

WAELA SAT on the edge of the cot in the obstetrics alcove they had improvised. She could hear Ferry working with the wounded out in the emergency area. He had not even noticed her leave his side. Supply crates screened her area and she sat in the fabric-diffused shadows, taking shallow breaths to slow the contractions.

The prediction of Hali's pribox and her own i

Waela leaned back on the cot.

I'm not afraid. Why am I not afraid?

She felt that a voice spoke to her from her womb - It will be as it will be.

The quiet was broken by a babble of voices and another rush of footsteps into the medical shelter. How many batches of the wounded did that make? She had lost count.

A particularly hard contraction forced a gasp from her.

It's time. It's really time.

She felt that she had been put on a long slide, unable to get off, unable to change a single thing that would happen. This was inevitable, growing from that moment in the sub's gondola.

How could I have stopped that? There was no way.

"Where's that TaoLini woman? We need her help out here."

It was Ferry's familiar wheeze. Waela thrust herself upright, staggered to her feet and made her way heavily back to the emergency area of the shelter. She paused in the entrance as another contraction gripped her.

"I'm here. What do you want?"

Ferry glanced up from applying celltape to a wounded E-clone.

"Somebody has to go outside and decide which people are most in need of emergency treatment. I don't have time."

She stumbled toward the exit.

"Wait." The bleary old eyes focused on her. "What's wrong with you?"

"It'.... I'...." She clutched the edge of the treatment table, looked down at a wounded E-clone.

"You'd better go back and lie down," Ferry said.

"But you nee...."

"I'll decide what has to be done!"

"But you sai...."

"I changed my mind." He finished with the E-clone on the table, looked down at the bulging eyes which protruded from the corners of the clone's temples. "You. You're well enough to go outside and see that I get the worst cases first."

She shook her head. "He doesn't know anything abou...."

"He knows when somebody's dying. Don't you?" Ferry helped the clone off the table, and Waela saw the burn splash across the man's right shoulder.

"He's wounded," Waela protested. "He can'...."

"We're all wounded," Ferry said. She heard hysteria in his voice. "Everybody's wounded. You go back now and lie down. Let the wounded take care of the wounded."

"What will yo.... ?"

"I'll be back when I've finished with this lot. The...." He leered at her, old yellow teeth. "Maybe a baby. You see? I'm a poet, too. Maybe you'll like me now."

Waela felt the old snake of fear wriggle up her spine.

Another burn victim staggered into the emergency area, a spidery young female with elongated neck and head, gigantic eyes. Ferry helped her onto the emergency table, signaled a clone from secondary treatment to come in and help. A stump-legged figure clumped in, held the wounded woman's shoulders.

Waela turned away, unable to look at the pain in the woman's eyes. How silent she was!

"I'll be in soon," Ferry called as Waela left.

She stopped at the fabric closure to the rear of the shelter. "I can tend to myself. Hali taught me t...."

Ferry laughed. "Hali, sweet bloom of youth, taught you nothing! You're not a young woman, TaoLini, and this is your first baby. Like it or not, you'll need me. You'll see."

Another contraction seized her as she stumbled into her alcove. She doubled over until it passed, then made her way through the gloom to the cot, threw herself on it. Another long, hard cramp rippled the length of her abdomen, followed immediately by an even harder one. She inhaled a deep breath, then a third constriction began. Suddenly, the cot was drenched with amniotic fluid.

Oh, Ship! The baby's coming now. She's comin....

Waela clenched her eyes tightly closed, her entire body taken up in the elemental force moving within her. She had no memory of calling out, but when she opened her eyes, Ferry was there with the long-fingered dwarf she had seen in the outer area of the medical shelter.

The dwarf bent over her face. "I'm Milo Kurz." His eyes were overlarge and protruding. "What do you want me to do?"

Ferry stood behind the dwarf, wringing his hands. Perspiration stood out on his forehead and all the hysterical bravado she had seen in the emergency area was gone.

"The baby's not coming now," he said.

"It's coming," she gasped.

"But the med-tech's not back. The Natal...."

"You said you could help me."

"But I've neve...."

Another contraction rippled through her. "Don't just stand there! Help me! Damn you, help me!"

Kurz stroked her forehead.

Twice, Ferry reached toward her, and twice pulled back.

"Please!" Waela screamed it between gasps. "The baby must be turned! Please turn her!"

"I can't!" Ferry backed away from the cot.

Waela glared up at the dwarf. "Kur.... please. The baby has to be turned. Could yo.... ?" Another gasping contraction silenced her.