The defeat brought Cara down a few notches, leaving her more conflicted than ever about colony life. Just when she’d begun to feel the slightest bit of optimism, Alona’s snap judgment had made her doubt the future. It was like emotional whiplash, and Cara didn’t know how much longer she could keep this up.
But she put the defeat behind her and paid a visit to her favorite academic scholar. Cara had a theory about the Wonder Siblings’ blue eyes, and she needed it confirmed. If nothing else, she would leave here knowing the truth about Jaxen and Aisly.
“During the exchange,” Cara said to Larish while relaxing into her plush seat, “Aelyx told me the Elders had gone too far with organized breeding, so they backtracked and began cloning from the archives.” When Larish nodded in confirmation, she continued. “But why didn’t they go way back and clone the ancients? Then they wouldn’t need human DNA to diversify the gene pool.”
“That’s a good question.” Larish sipped the steaming h’ali Cara had brought to butter him up and loosen his tongue. “Genetic material loses its integrity after about two thousand years, even under the ideal storage conditions of the archives. It’s possible to clone from older samples, but not without manipulating the genetic code.”
“Manipulating it?” she echoed. “How?”
Larish set down his mug and tapped the data table that stood between them. An illustration appeared of the double helix structure. He used an index finger to swipe at the chains, forming cracks and breaks in the DNA. “This is what time does to an archived sample in perfect, sub-frozen storage.” With the side of his fist, he took it further, scrubbing out entire rungs of the helix ladder. “And this is what you’d face if you wanted to clone the ancients—assuming you could find their remains.”
“But it could be done?” Cara asked.
“In theory. We could use artificial material to fill in the missing links. But it wouldn’t be a true clone. Odds are, the replicates would be…” He searched for the right word, then settled on the very definition of Jaxen and Aisly. “Different from the original.”
Cara parted her lips in mock fascination, trying to appear innocent. “Different how? Like, could scientists give the replicates special powers and stuff?”
Mind control, for example.
Larish’s countenance brightened and a sly grin curved his mouth. He leaned in, lowering his voice as if to share a secret. “Many years ago, a rumor was circulating that The Way had commissioned just such a project.”
Cara mirrored his position, resting both elbows on her knees and summoning her most trustworthy face. “Really?”
He flashed a palm. “Just hearsay, you understand.”
“Of course.” She gave a solemn nod, silently willing him to spill it.
“Remember the remains taken from the colony?”
“The bodies of the pregnant queen and her consort?”
Larish nodded. “Supposedly, the true reason The Way exhumed the remains was because they’d exhausted their supply of ancient DNA. They transported the bodies here, to the capital’s genetics laboratory. According to rumor, the lead geneticists were instructed to clone the pair and heighten the replicates’ abilities with alien DNA.”
“Aliens?” Cara asked. “Like the Aribol?”
“Maybe. It could have been any species. The Way had uncovered alien genetic material on a primitive blood-crusted weapon, and scientists salvaged just enough usable DNA to fill in the missing genetic code from the ancients.”
“How long ago was this?” she asked.
Larish darted a quick gaze at the ceiling to crunch the numbers. “About twenty years ago, if I’m not mistaken.” Shaking his head, he corrected, “No. I’d just relocated to the new barracks, so it would have been twenty-two years ago.”
Which would make the first alien hybrid twenty-one, like Jaxen. Aelyx was right when he’d said the oldest clones were barely twenty. Jaxen wasn’t a true clone. The geneticists must have used him as a guinea pig before they created Aisly.
“What about the fetus?” Cara asked. “Do you think they tried to clone it?”
Larish waved a dismissive hand. “If they did, I can’t imagine they were successful. The embryonic tissue would have decayed beyond use.”
If that were the case, then Aisly wasn’t Jaxen’s sister. In another life, thousands of years ago, she’d been his queen and the mother of his unborn child. They were probably l’ihans now. Cara recalled the day she’d sat beside Jaxen in his room. When she’d asked about his partner, he had said the girl was his perfect match. It had to be Aisly.
But wait.
What if there were more of these Super Ancients running around? On L’eihr, they’d never stand out if they used cosmetic drops, and on Earth, they’d blend into the blue-eyed population with no more than a trendy haircut and a change of clothes.
“Do you know how many hybrids the labs tried to create?” Cara chilled at the idea of a whole generation of mindbenders loosed upon the galaxy.
“I have no idea.” Larish retrieved his mug and took a leisurely sip. “Assuming the project existed, it would’ve been kept highly classified, which means the lead geneticists would have lived sequestered from the general populace.”
Cara started to ask why, but then the answer came. “Ah. So the scientists didn’t accidentally leak information through Silent Speech.”
“Exactly.” Larish gave her that proud-teacher smile. “You’re very intelligent, Cah-ra.”
She waited for him to add the disclaimer for a human, but he never did. Her heart swelled with pride. “That means a lot coming from you.”
She decided that Larish was pretty awesome—for anyone, not just a L’eihr.