“We were happy to help increase your efficiency. Is the task well under way?”
“It’s just now completed,” Ford answers. “We only have preliminary results so far, but they are unprecedented. Dahlia 16’s genetic examination revealed two specific and very odd flaws, yet not one of her identicals has tested positive for either of them so far.”
The cadet instructor’s gasp drowns out my own. “How is that possible?”
“We don’t know yet. But we will get to the bottom of this.”
Trigger squats and tugs on my hand, trying to get me to crawl past the window, but I’m stuck in place, both horrified for what this revelation might mean for me and relieved for my identicals.
If they’re not flawed, they won’t have to be recalled. Right?
“How will you proceed with the identicals?” Armstrong 38 asks.
“We will carry on with the recall to maintain public confidence in Management, and in our geneticists, and in the entire system.”
What? My stomach begins to churn. I sink to the floor next to Trigger, and the tile feels cold against my knees through the stretchy material of my athletic pants.
“That is wise,” the commander replies. “Faith in the system is ultimately of far more importance than any individual within it.”
What about five thousand individuals?
They’re still talking, but I’m lost in my own head. In the senselessness of the loss. If none of my sisters are flawed, why recall them?
Trigger pulls on my hand again, and again I refuse to move. I have to know what’s wrong with me. Why my defects will mean doom for thousands of perfectly perfect girls.
“But there’s something else you could help me with, Commander,” Ford says. “This boy she was caught with. This cadet…” During the pause, I picture him consulting a tablet. “Trigger 17.”
Trigger stops tugging me.
“It turns out they got stuck in an elevator together a few weeks ago, and we think that was the beginning of this whole mess. Nearly an hour with no power or camera.”
Armstrong 38 grunts. “Yes, I remember his report, but he didn’t mention there was another student with him.”
I glance at Trigger and find his jaw tense.
“Interesting.” Ford clears his throat. “What kind of boy is he?”
Trigger tries to pull me forward again, but I tug free of his grip. I want to hear this too.
“He’s a capable student and an excellent fighter. They all are. However, Trigger 17 is particularly creative and determined. Until today he was a squad leader and a very strong candidate for leadership within the Defense—”
“Yes, I’ve seen his record. But what kind of boy is he?” Ford asks. “How is he…socially? You heard how they were caught?”
Trigger scowls as he tries to pull me forward, but I am caught in this discussion like a fly in a web.
“Oh.” Armstrong clears his throat. “Most cadets are social. It’s a result of the otherwise vestigial hormones necessary to grow a fighter, both physically and mentally. You can’t get the increased bone density, musculature, and interest in the subject matter without also tapping into another kind of primal instinct.”
“I see,” Ford 45 says. “Your explanation is much simpler and less technical than that of the geneticist I just spoke to.”
Armstrong laughs. “It’s harmless. We allow the male and female units to fraternize in their free time. That lets them get it out of their systems so they can concentrate during class and training.”
Trigger tugs on my hand again, more urgently this time, and I notice that his face is flushed. Is he…embarrassed? Or angry?
I feel like he understands more of what we’re hearing than I do.
Reluctantly I begin to crawl slowly past the window.
“But she’s not Defense,” Armstrong adds. “Trigger’s influence on her will have been minimal.”
“Because the other bureaus aren’t saddled with the distraction of primitive hormones?”
“Exactly. She shouldn’t have much interest in him beyond idle curiosity.”
The commander is wrong.
Why is he so very wrong?
“I’d like to speak with this cadet, if I may.” Yet Ford 45 seems to be giving an order rather than making a request.
“Of course. I’ll call him in—”
“After the recall. We’re going to need the rest of your cadets a little longer,” Ford 45 says as I listen from beneath the window. “If you’re amenable, of course.”
“To help with the recall?”
“No, Management can handle that. But what’s left of your year seventeens will give us the manpower to double up on patrols in the training ward. Dahlia 16 has been officially labeled an anomaly, and between the two of us…she’s unaccounted for.”
“She escaped? That does sound anomalous for a trade laborer.”
Trigger grins at the surprise in his commander’s voice, as if I should be proud of what I’ve done. Of surviving this far. But I feel only guilt for the fate of my identicals.
The word anomaly rolls around in my head. I’m familiar with the concept as it refers to plants. To irregularities, which typically result in the destruction of the affected specimen. But I’ve never heard of an anomalous person.
Yet I’d never heard of a beautiful person either until Trigger introduced me to that concept, so maybe people can be anomalous too. Maybe people, like plants, sometimes inexplicably defy the cloning process that is supposed to render them genetically flawless and indistinguishable from their identicals. The process that is supposed to give them the comfort and security of familiar faces and a place to belong.
But when an anomalous plant blooms in class, we only destroy that one specimen. We don’t trash the entire crop yield! Euthanizing 4,999 flawless girls would be unbelievably wasteful and inefficient. Contrary to the very ideals Lakeview holds in esteem.
What could Management possibly be thinking?
Trigger’s grip on my hand tightens. His lips form my name silently as he begs me to come with him before we’re discovered.
“And our orders?” Commander Armstrong says, recapturing my attention. “Are you authorizing lethal force?”
My heart leaps into my throat and sticks there. What does that mean? They want Trigger’s identicals to shoot me?
“No!” Ford 45 sounds almost as horrified as I feel. “Dahlia 16 must be brought in alive for a thorough examination.”
Examination? Somehow that sounds much less agreeable than my yearly physical.
“We need to know how this happened so we can prevent future such disasters in the genetics lab,” Ford continues. “Your boys and girls are on a find-and-report mission only. Without a union to blend into, Dahlia 16 should be easy to find.”
Nausea washes over me. Is that why my defectless sisters are being recalled? To make it easier for Management and Defense to hunt me?