“Genetic material from the male and female was combined artificially.” Aelyx turned and glanced at Cara. “This shouldn’t be surprising. You’ve had this technology on Earth for many years.” He faced forward and continued walking. “Then the embryo was developed in an artificial womb, same as the clones. Our females haven’t been burdened with pregnancy in over nine hundred years.”
That last part sounded pretty cool. Mom loved to tell labor and delivery horror stories, and sometimes Cara wondered if it was Mom’s passive-aggressive way of trying to scare her into abstinence. Which was totally working. To have a baby without any pain sounded perfect. Women on L’eihr were lucky—well, if you didn’t count the weird clone thing and the total lack of individuality.
“Whoa, that’s wild. But you still have sex, right?” When Brandi tried to lean against Aelyx’s shoulder, he darted away.
“Some of our citizens choose to engage in physical intimacy, but it’s rare. That kind of connection sometimes causes complications.”
That sparked Cara’s interest. “Wait a minute,” she said. “How’s it possible for a whole planet full of people to avoid sex?”
“Most take advantage of the hormone regulators.”
“Hormone regulators?” Brandi asked. “Like birth control pills?”
“No. The regulators suppress reproductive urges.”
Holy frick, that was creepy as hell.
“Do you take the hormone pills?” Brandi’s voice oozed seduction.
“Not anymore. They’re weaning my generation off of them.” Aelyx turned around and gave Cara a look that said, A little help, please?
Jogging forward, Cara wedged herself between the two. “You feeling better, Aelyx?” When he shot her a questioning look, she added, “I heard you sneezing like crazy last night.”
“Oh, right.” He played along, sniffling and dragging a hand beneath his nose. “I don’t know what’s wrong. Allergies, I guess.”
“Remember not to touch anything,” Cara said darkly. “Especially after what happened last time.”
He gave a slow nod. “I’d almost forgotten about that.”
Brandi studied him for a moment before taking the bait. “What happened?”
“When we were at the exchange party in Manhattan,” Cara said, “Aelyx shook this guy’s hand. No big deal, right? But half an hour later, the guy’s palm turned red and splotchy with little white blisters all over it.”
“And?” Brandi asked.
Cara shook her head seriously. “It took forever to figure it out. Aelyx had sneezed into his hands and didn’t get a chance to wash up before he met that poor guy. Apparently, L’eihr saliva’s super acidic. Who knew?”
“Well,” he said, “you have to remember I’m not human. My body, including the pH level of my fluids, differs from yours.”
Nice one.
Cara cupped a hand over her mouth and whispered in Brandi’s ear, “Can you imagine kissing him?” She shuddered in mock disgust. “Anyway, that’s why he needs to keep his distance.” She pointed to Aelyx and asked, “Hey, when was the last time you washed your hands?”
Aelyx stared at his palms. “You know, I can’t remember.”
Brandi almost tripped over herself darting ahead of him on the path. This new development didn’t drive her away, but at least she gave Aelyx a few inches of personal space as she started asking about L’eihr drugs.
Cara smiled. It turned out Aelyx was almost as good of a liar as she was.
“Conflict’s a natural part of life. It exists on L’eihr—I know it—and I won’t believe anything you say till I see it for myself.” Cara brought a pencil to her lips and shrugged one shoulder casually, but her cerulean eyes flashed with passion. Aelyx loved it. His spirited debates with Cara and her World Studies instructor were the only pleasurable activities taking place for him inside Midtown High.
“I’m inclined to agree.” Mr. Manuel perched on the corner of his desk, ignoring the other students, who had turned their attention to the cellular phones concealed beneath their desks.
“I never said conflict was nonexistent,” Aelyx told her. “Only violence.”
“But that’s natural, too,” she countered.
“You’re only half right.” Aelyx leaned back and stretched out his legs, resting his feet on the steel bookrack beneath Cara’s desk. “Physical aggression is natural. We use rigorous sports to tame it.” The clones did, anyway. Aelyx didn’t mention his Elders had stopped feeling aggression decades ago, when they’d virtually died inside. “Violence isn’t tolerated. Tempting as it may be to resolve conflicts with our fists, the promise of harsh consequences keeps us compliant.”
“Consequences?” Mr. Manuel asked, sitting a bit straighten.
Cara perked up as well, giving a little sneer. “Like what? They chop off your hands for fighting?”
Aelyx held both palms forward. “I still have mine.”
“You were in a fight, Mr. Perfect?”
“Just once.” Only a fool would repeat an infraction after twelve lashes from the iphet. He could almost feel its blazing electricity stinging his flesh, and half a lifetime had passed since the incident. “Yes, our punishments are harsh, but we’re also trained from infancy to follow The Way. And don’t forget, my generation is cloned from the archives, so—”
“So,” Mr. Manuel interrupted, “they hand-selected a generation of ideal L’eihrs? That has disaster written all over it.”
Aelyx didn’t see the problem. “Why regenerate flawed citizens?”
“Newsflash,” Cara said. “You’re flawed, too.”
“Big time,” someone muttered from behind.
“Perhaps, but still evolved. Our last war ended thousands of years ago. Your wars in the Middle East have barely ceased, and already there’s conflict simmering again. Humans have yet to move beyond the cycle of aggression.” And they never would. He’d wager his life on it. “That’s the main difference between us.” The reason their societies should never coexist.
Before the debate could continue, a bell chimed in three short bursts through the loudspeaker, and noisy chatter erupted as students filed out of the classroom. In their customary fashion, he and Cara waited until the room emptied before departing for lunch.
The clamor of a hundred simultaneous conversations reverberated through the halls, joined by the squeak of rubber-soled shoes against tile floors. The acrid scent of tacos weighted the air, and he inwardly thanked Cara for packing his lunch again. He only wished it were pot roast instead of cheese and crackers.
“Keep putting ’em up, assholes,” she muttered as they passed a HALO recruitment poster taped to the wall. It proclaimed, Hell, no! L’eihrs Gotta Go! Not very creative, but then again, they weren’t the brightest among humans. “Because this feels great.” She tore it down and shoved it into a nearby recycling bin.
“See? There’s a healthy way to—” Aelyx stopped, distracted by the odd behavior of several students around him. As soon as they caught a glimpse of his face, they’d fling themselves from his path as if his touch might turn them to stone.
Not that he was complaining—he preferred this to humans like Brandi clinging to him like religion.
While Cara charged forward, ripping posters off the dingy cinder block wall, a dark-haired female click-click-clicked over in platform heels and tugged Cara’s sweater. It took Aelyx a moment to recognize the girl as Tori. She’d cut her long hair last week and now wore it cropped at an angle that followed her jawline. A revealing skirt had replaced knee-length gym shorts, and she’d rimmed her eyes in jet-black goo, no doubt in an attempt to attract a mate. He wondered which male she’d targeted.