J2

Chapter 1

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The official hovercar of the Administrative Government of North America slipped smoothly through Chicago’s traffic. Everyone made way for the flag-bedecked black limo. Inside, George9909, the driver, looked in the rearview at his passengers and snorted. Two freaks back there. Clones. Non-persons. Ah well, it was his job to ferry them from the State Lab where they lived to the Palace of Art where they were preparing to be the stars in the up-coming trial of Jemma7729, the most notorious and clever outlaw who had ever challenged AGNA.

And there she is, George clenched his jaw, the freakin’ lab rat. The girl in the back seat was a looker, that’s for sure. Tall for a girl, officially too tall, at 5‘7-1/2". Her black hair was thick and glossy, short with bangs that reached just above her eyebrows over dark eyes that were full of mischief. She was the spittin’ image of Jemma7729.

The girl, who called herself J2, was the carbon copy Jemma, George thought and smirked, looked through the tinted windows of the car and suddenly rapped on the glass divider behind him.

Hey, George! Look—there’s an announcement of our performance. She turned to her companion. Teddy, look! The sandy-haired young man seated beside her leaned across J2 to peer out the window. George glanced, too, slowing down.

In the Market Square, across from The People’s Park, a huge billboard announced the up-coming trial in gaudy, commercial fashion:

THE TRIAL OF JEMMA7729

TUESDAY, SEPTEMBER 13 AT 1000 SHARP!

JUSTICE WILL BE SERVED AS THIS

NOTORIOUS OUTLAW FACES THE TRIBUNAL

RE-ENACTMENTS PROMISED

OFFICIAL PASS REQUIRED

A 20-foot high billboard, with a picture of Jemma7729, smiling, her hair wind-blown, wearing black combat armorweave and carrying a murderous looking gun, towered above the square.

Teddy grinned. Jeeze! It’s you, Jay! Is that what your costume will look like?

I hope so. It’s sexy.

Teddy put an arm around her and leaned his head on her shoulder. Speaking of which, when are you gonna...?

Ssshhh! J2 indicated the driver with a tilt of her head.

You promised, Teddy whispered.

I said after the trial.

Teddy pecked a kiss on her cheek and leaned back. Good.

She smiled at him and leaned her head against his shoulder. Yes, good. You’re a sweet guy, Ted.

George looked at J2 in the rearview mirror. Dumb bitch. Why is she smiling? Jemma faces certain death. Clones, he guessed, were not very smart. He speeded up, turned a corner and entered an underground garage beneath the modern, plasticrete and glass Palace of Art.

This is it, you two. I’ll be back in an hour. He touched a key on his dash that deactivated the door locks. J2 scrambled out of the car and headed toward a bank of elevators with Teddy trotting behind her.

The elevator stopped on the twelfth floor. J2 and Teddy stepped into a large, empty rehearsal hall. One wall was mirrored. The other walls were institution gray, windowless, and completely plain except for surveillance cams in the corners. Three straight-back chairs, a round table, and a small couch sat off to one side of the room. A prop table in a far corner was loaded with various weapons and pieces of clothing.

Lana9924, the director, had arrived before her actors. A rich, popular vid star, her face as familiar as the outlaw whose trial she had been hired to stage, she was a leggy thirty-something blond, her hair pulled into one long cascade reaching to her waist. She wore a blue suit, the skirt showing great legs, the color emphasizing her large sky-blue eyes.

Lana turned as her actors exploded out of the elevator. Teddy and J2 came to an abrupt halt in the presence of the star. Teddy doffed his cap and grinned. J2 bobbed her head, acknowledging the master director.

Did you see the billboard? J2 came immediately to Lana’s side. She was smiling, the same bright heroine smile all of North America had come to identify with her DNA. The same smile that beamed down on The People’s Park.

Yes, I did.

Really great picture of Jemma. She looks so happy. I wonder where it was taken.

That’s none of your business, J2.

I know, but it seems odd. That picture, I mean. It’s a trial. Why would they use a smiling picture?

Well, that’s how she was. She was a monster. She did all those terrible things, and kept that beautiful smile. She didn’t care.

J2 frowned. Oh, I see. It’s ironic, then? She’s the smiler with the knife. Lana looked quizzical. J2 shrugged. "Chaucer. The Knight’s Tale."

 Lana chuckled. Well, c’mon. We have a lot of work to do and Tuesday is only a week away.

J2 unfastened her jacket and draped it over a chair. We’ll be ready.

Of course we will, Lana smiled again. We’re working on the shooting scene today.

J2 ran her fingers through her hair, not willing to stop talking. Do I really look like her?

Yes, you do. Lana picked up her script. Four pages of sparse dialogue and some action. Not her favorite kind of theatre— she was partial to romances—but she had been hired to prepare these actors for Jemma’s trial. Lana’s lips twitched, a half smile. This was a plum assignment. The Trial of the Century. Her profile would go sky-high, along with her salary.

J2 shrugged. Sometimes I think so, but...I look at her pictures on the vid and then at myself in the mirror and we don’t match.

Lana paused. Well, you’re younger, I think. The director frowned. How old are you?

J2 laughed self-consciously. It’s complicated. I wasn’t really—born. My dad, Jaak5113 I mean, says that physiologically, I’m about 22.

Lana tensed and took a breath. She shouldn’t be asking these questions. She turned away abruptly. Let’s get started. It’s a short rehearsal today. Get your props.

Yes, ma’am. J2 started to walk away and then stopped. I guess living—years and years, and having experiences and feeling things. Laughing, crying, doing...terrible things or whatever, probably also changes how we look. How people look. She held her director’s eyes.

Lana swallowed. The surveillance cams hummed on, and she shouldn’t be discussing things like this, openly, with the clone. Who knew what AGNA would consider inappropriate? But J2’s eyes were pleading, wanting to understand.

Yes. I would think that’s true.

J2 nodded. Thank you. Props! and she moved to the far side of the room to get her props.

Lana watched her go and then turned her attention back to the flimsy script in her hand. She needed to focus. This was such a high-profile trial, Lana was sure they were being monitored. Everything had to go smoothly.

 No one knew why AGNA’s trials often included staged re- enactments of important evidence served up to entertain and enlighten the public. It had been going on for well over fifty years. Lana didn’t complain—it paid well. But this one had been different from the beginning. Usually, as a court-appointed director, she got to cast the actors, using professionals. For this trial, she had been given her players: clones of the real people. Only J2 had any real talent, and the clones of Jemma’s parents were nearly zombies.

At the prop table, J2 picked up a gun belt with a holstered pistol, and strapped it around her waist.

Lana tapped her foot impatiently. We only have an hour today. Let’s run the shooting.

J2 ran her fingers through her mop of black hair and Lana blinked. One would swear she was the real Jemma7729, not a copy. She caught herself up short, not wanting to think forbidden thoughts again. But the truth was, she liked J2, and although she would never speak it out loud and tried not to think it, she and many thousands, maybe millions, of people had admired the panache of the criminal Jemma7729 and thrilled at her exploits. That was dangerous. Besides, she only liked J2 because she took direction well. Sure, that was it.

All right, Jay! See that white chalk mark? That’s where the hologram will be. It’s a shack, and you’re sneaking around the side of it.

J2 stared at Lana a moment. You know it didn’t actually happen this way...

What?

Killing Teddy. I read the AGNA report. It happened during the L. A. Terror in 2208. It was outside, but—

Lana straightened her back and hardened her heart. This is the way AGNA wants it. This is the way we’ll do it.

J2 nodded and looked at the floor. But, aren’t we supposed to be presenting the facts?

You’re going to sneak around the side of the hologram shack. Do you understand? Lana’s voice was flat and thick as tar. You will do exactly what the script says and nothing else. Nothing. If you can’t do that, I will fire you right now.

J2 took a hesitant step backward. Yes, ma’am.

"You’ll get us all in trouble."

Yes, ma’am. I just thought—

Lana clamped her jaw shut.

Teddy shook his head. C’mon, Jay! You know the rules.

J2 held up both hands in surrender. All right! All right. I’m sorry! I’ll do it.

Lana walked away from them and took a deep breath. She turned back and stared J2 down. Exactly as written.

J2 nodded. Please, Lana, I don’t want you to be mad at me...

Take your places.

 J2 nodded and took a deep breath. She frowned. Should I have the gun out? J2 hefted the .470 Winner sidearm.

Lana stared hard at her actor, needing to make sure J2 understood that the script could not be changed. Then she blew out an audible breath. Maybe. Try it.

Okay. J2 twirled the heavy pistol twice and put it back in the holster, a trick she had learned watching antique vids.

Lana shook her head at the melodramatic gesture and relaxed a little. Good, J2 was calming down. She wasn’t generally contentious. In fact, both she and Teddy were usually overly cooperative, obsequious even, dazzled by her star power. Obviously, the clone had no idea what AGNA might do if she rebelled, if she improvised, if she changed the script.

She turned her attention to the young man standing awkwardly on the far side of the room. Teddy was a handsome guy with a boyish appeal. Maybe in costume, in full body armor and carrying a sizeable gun, he might look more menacing. Now he shifted from foot to foot, touching his face, fussing with his belt. He smiled and stood up straighter when he caught Lana watching him. She smiled back and sighed. Some people just weren’t meant to be actors. It didn’t really matter. He would die quickly.

J2 walked in and out of the acting space, measuring. So we play the scene between the chalk-marks and then I kill him right in the center?

Yes. And remember—you’re outside, in the woods northeast of SeatVan.

J2 raised her eyebrows. SeatVan? She looked away from Lana and then back again. I see. That’s four domes surrounded by wilderness.

Lana cocked her head to one side. Do you have a dictionary in your head? She had wondered about that before, noting the look-away-look-back mannerism.

J2 laughed. Not exactly. I have an interface with my comp, and I leave it set to the encyclopedia most of the time so I can keep learning things.

That was something Lana was sure she didn’t need to know. Let’s do the scene. Get offstage, Teddy, and come on when you’re ready. J2, enter as soon as you see him. J2 nodded. You’re outside. In the woods. Can you smell them?

J2 frowned. I don’t know what woods smell like. She caught her bottom lip with her teeth, upset that she could not comply.

Lana clapped her hands together and laughed. Actually, I don’t know, either. That gained her a tiny smile from her actress. They’re pines. Probably the closest would be the park. What you smell in the park.

J2 shook her head. Haven’t smelled the park. We drive past it, but we’re not allowed to stop. The windows are up. The hovercar from the lab was climate-controlled; the one-way windows kept out prying eyes.

Lana shook her head. Okay, I don’t want to waste time with this. She glanced at Teddy who was re-tying his boots, half-listening. Let’s run it.

J2 entered the scene by turning away, then back, her body tensed and slightly crouched, her hand on the holster on her hip. Teddy turned, too, and took a couple of steps.

J2’s eyes narrowed. She licked her lips. Hey! Teddy!

Teddy took another step, his eyes widened in fear at the malice he saw in his fellow clone. His mouth dropped open.

You betrayed us! J2 moved toward him, her hand suddenly extended in front of her, the machismo firearm pointing at her adversary. You betrayed me! Another step.

Even Lana was surprised by J2’s intensity. Teddy backed away, shaking his head.

I’m sorry, Jay.

Aaargh! J2 straightened, lost her concentration, and gritted her teeth. "Ted-dee! I’m Jemma, not Jay!"

Lana was on her feet, smiling. All right! We’ll do it again. That was good, J2. Now, get offstage, Teddy, count to ten and then come on.

The actors took their places; the scene began again, Teddy moving stiffly, J2 overacting to compensate. Lana shrugged inwardly, gave some more suggestions, and ran the scene again. Her actors had to get it right. It was a critical piece of the accusations against Jemma7729: she had murdered Teddy4066 in cold blood. State Security of the Administrative Government of North America said so. And StateSec was never wrong.

All right, that’s enough for today. Lana called it early because it wasn’t working and she didn’t quite trust J2. Her actress had never questioned the script before. Lana didn’t want any more off-topic talking. Teddy was already removing his holster, but J2 hadn’t moved.

It’s so short! How am I going to establish a character in four lines?

Lana’s voice had an edge. J2, everyone knows who Jemma is. She glanced at her chrono. Your car is probably waiting. What you’re doing is okay.

"I don’t want to be okay. I want to be good."

You’re trying too hard. Lana found herself retreating, emotionally, intellectually. She had once again forgotten just what J2 was. That was bad mojo. AGNA would not approve.

C’mon, Jay! I’m tired of dying. Teddy tossed his heavy holster and gun on the prop table. Let’s go home.

Lana moved the straight chair to the side of the room. Tomorrow we’ll use the paint guns. You two need to get used to it. You need to rehearse shooting him.

Not a problem. I’ve been practicing. I rigged up a sort of firing range at the lab. I have excellent hand-eye coordination. Even if he’s out of position, I’ll hit him. J2 grinned at Teddy. Even if he gets stage fright and runs. Teddy made a rude noise at her and she laughed.

Glad you’re so confident. Lana chuckled. Tell the doctor I’ll need you for two hours.

Okay. I’ll find a way to smell a pine tree. I could probably make an ester in the lab, if all else fails. She removed her gun belt, stashed it beside Teddy’s.

The intercom buzzed. J2 put an arm around Teddy and gave him a hug. Cheer up, Ted. We’ll play a game of Jastar7 tonight and maybe you’ll even win.

Yeah, sure. Teddy pulled away from her. And maybe the moon isn’t a rock. But one of these days, Jay— He punched the panel for the elevator.

J2 turned to Lana. I’m sorry I was...difficult. I apologize. It won’t happen again. Please don’t be mad at me.

Lana smiled and touched J2’s shoulder lightly. "Apology accepted. You have a lot of nervous energy, J2. I’m not mad at you, but it can’t happen again."

It won’t. I promise. Thank you. J2 waved a cheery goodbye and followed Teddy into the elevator. The doors slid silently shut, plunging the rehearsal studio into silence.

Lana shook her head, muttering under her breath. I hope no one saw that.

 She moved to shut the studio down. The surveillance cam ready lights glowed scarlet in the sudden gloom. Lana was uneasy. She had not been clever this day. She left quickly.

The official car drove away from the Palace of Art, turned right and navigated the broad avenue past The People’s Park. J2 rapped on the glass seat divider again.

Hey, George. See the road on the left and those dark trees. Pull in there. Those are pines. I need to smell them.

Forget it, J2. You know we’re not allowed to stop. But his foot had eased on the accelerator.

It’s an assignment from my director! We don’t have to stop. I won’t get out. Just put the window down so I can smell them. Or, better yet, you get out and grab me a branch.

Steal a branch? Are you trying to get me in trouble?

Teddy chuckled. Oh, lay off, Jay. You’re so intense! It isn’t important.

It is to me. George, please.

The driver shook his head but pulled off and drove to the small stand of pines. He half-turned in his seat. J2 you don’t move a muscle. All right?

Absolutely. J2 grinned. What? Did he think she was going to bolt out of the car? And go where? It hadn’t occurred to her until that moment, and she had a fleeting jolt of excitement. What would happen? That might be fun.

The driver got out, glancing around furtively. He broke off a small piece of the nearest tree and jumped back into the car, tossing the fragrant pine bough into the back seat. There! You owe me.

J2 was delighted. Smell it, Teddy. It’s lovely...and sticky. She examined the pitch on her fingers, then dared to taste it. Whoa, not good to eat, but a wonderful aroma.

You’re crazy, Jay, but I love you anyway. Teddy pulled his cap down over his eyes and leaned back, ready to nap all the way to the lab.

Thanks, George. I really appreciate that.

You’ve never smelled a pine tree before? George watched her in the rear-view. She shook her head. You don’t get out much. He turned his attention back to driving. What the hell! Why was he treating these two freaks as if they were humans? Not a word of this, J2.

On my honor.

George nodded. J2 held the pine bough gently, bringing it to her nose from time to time with a smile. It was worth feeling George’s condescension to taste the wildness in the tiny piece of foliage. What would a whole forest of these smell like?

George didn’t answer. Teddy was asleep, or pretending to be.

She leaned back in the comfortable seat and imagined standing in a pine forest. She also interfaced with her comp and looked up pine tree. By the time the hovercar pulled into the underground garage at the lab, J2 had memorized the Latin names of North American pine species, and had started learning their husbandry and uses.

Chapter 2

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Jaak5113 finished entering his daily worksheet notes and turned his comp off. He rubbed his eyes, tired of looking at the bright screen. His lab office plunged into sudden darkness and he was blind for a moment. He’d forgotten to turn on the lights. Red and green stand-bys glowed from the plethora of comp units, of diagnostic and communications equipment, arrayed around his workspace. He stood up and stretched his back. It was cramped from hunching over the notes.

There had been so much to do since Jemma7729 had been taken into custody and he had learned that his finest experiment to date, the clone Jemma7729-211A, would be used in the trial. She styled herself J2 and he liked it. He’d had to accelerate the growth on the other clones they needed and they were pretty lame by his own standards, especially the clones of Jemma’s parents, who looked like Elane and Roger but were barely able to take care of their own bodies. He would work on them after the trial.

J2 had been growing up in his lab. Long before Jemma7729’s capture, Jaak had become intrigued with stories of her rebellion against AGNA, her flashy derring-do in the Countryside over the last dozen years. Jemma was special. That made J2 special.

Thinking about J2 made him smile. She’s a wonderful piece of work! he whispered to himself.

She was a secret piece of work, too, he thought instantly. If AGNA had known a clone of Jemma7729 existed, God knows what would have happened. He would probably be on trial. Or dead. Or worse. Now, he could pass her off as a technological break-through, which it was in a way. The accelerated growth project had worked pretty well. That was a relief, and he was sure to get more funding.

He scoffed at himself. The eagerness for funding was true enough, but it was J2 herself that excited him. Physically, she was perfect and a near-perfect match of the original. Intellectually, thanks to a little tinkering, she was a very smart creature. She didn’t know just how smart yet, but he did. There was a lot J2 didn’t know. He’d had great DNA to start with. That’s why there was a J2 and not someone else’s clone to test out his new theories. Besides, he called her his daughter, and he loved her.

He had a sudden urge to talk to her. He hadn’t seen her since breakfast and he’d skipped dinner. He glanced at his chrono: 2224. Late.

He stretched his back again, arms above his head, bumping an over-hanging spotlight. Jaak was tall and gangly, with dark curly hair showing streaks of silver. Until four weeks ago, his hair had brushed his shoulders in a stringy, unkempt mass, but now that he was meeting with AGNA personnel about the trial—not his usual scientific contacts—he’d cleaned up his act, cut his hair, shaved regularly. He didn’t recognize himself in a mirror.

He left his office, securing the door, and strolled down the well-lit, sterile hall and through double secure doors into the living quarters. The clones lived here, and so did he. The Reception Area was pleasant. It was carpeted with phony Orientals, made inviting with comfortable sofas and overstuffed chairs. Side tables glowed with polish under dimmed lamps. In the daylight, the large, draped windows had a view of the Chicago skyline and even a piece of Lake Michigan. He was happy here.

Through another door, this one of wood, and down a narrower hall, Jaak reached his destination: J2’s apartment. It was modest: a sitting room, bedroom, kitchen and bath. Over the last eight months she had redecorated it at least four times, playing with different styles, periods, textures. He shook his head. He had absolutely no interest in such things, but it amused her and he was happy to let her experiment. She had Fritz, an alter, to look after her and do the heavy lifting.

A soft red barlight glowed beside the door. That meant her lights were on. He knocked. Jay? You still up?

J2 opened the door after a moment. Jaak felt his heart stutter. The look of her always surprised him.

Hi, Dad. You’re working late.

Am I disturbing you?

No. Please, come in. She turned and led him into her sitting room.

Jaak chuckled. It was newly redone in a jungle motif. J2 flung herself down on a phony-leopard covered chaise lounge. Jaak chose an overstuffed chair plastered with gaudy flowers. Going native, Jay?

It won’t last long. It’s a little busy for my taste. All these colors seem to make a lot of noise. Want some tea?

That would be nice. But, tea? Have you given up your coffee habit?

Not a chance, she grinned. I’ve discovered chamomile tea. Very soothing at the end of a long day. It smells like flowers.

Sounds good. I’ll try it.

J2 went into her small, immaculate, kitchen. Jaak leaned back, watching her swift movements with the old fashioned teapot she preferred to an infuser. Music played softly. He smiled, feeling his back relax at last. What’s the music?

J2 looked in at him and listened a moment. It’s Hildegard von Bingen. Lovely, isn’t it?

What century?

Twelfth.

Doesn’t match the décor. I expected drumming or bellowing elephants.

J2 grinned. I have that, too, if you want it. She brought a tray with two cups, the Chinese teapot, and a small plate of cookies. Hildegard, like chamomile, is soothing. Try the cookies. Made ’em myself.

Did you? Then, of course.

I like cooking. Well, this is, technically, baking. It’s like chemistry... with logic and art thrown in. I’m good at those.

Jaak picked up a raisin-laden oatmeal tasty with a smile. How was your day?

She sighed and poured the tea. Lousy rehearsal. We didn’t get anything done and Lana wasn’t happy. Teddy is a creep.

Jaak laughed. A creep?

I mean... She took a bite of cookie and a noisy sip of tea. Good cookies! My acting lessons were so much better, when we were working on scenes and improvisations. Now we’re doing AGNA’s script and it’s terrible.

What’s wrong with the script?

"It isn’t true, for starters. I read the official reports, as you said I should. I’ve watched hours of newsvids. Teddy was killed in the L. A. Terror of 2208, not somewhere near SeatVan around an old shack. And the dialogue is ridiculous."

Jaak put his cup down and grew suddenly tense. You brought this up at the rehearsal?

She nodded. Lana said it doesn’t matter.

His stomach suddenly clutched. She’s right. That wasn’t very smart. Please. Just do what they tell you to do.

It isn’t fair.

That doesn’t matter! Jaak popped his knuckles. J2’s eyebrows went up. She knew that was a nervous habit when he was agitated. Don’t make trouble!

J2 shrugged and reached for another cookie. "I’m not making trouble. But it’s a trial! Isn’t it supposed to have two sides?"

Not this time. Jemma is guilty. She bragged when she blew up chemical facilities. She even added stuff to the explosives to make green fireworks, so no one could miss her trademark.

Barium, I know. J2 ran her fingers through her hair and stared at the plate of cookies. Lana said Jemma was a monster. She looked up quickly. Was she? Am I?

No. No! Jemma was a rebel. She fought against our government. She broke the law. You’re not a monster, and she wasn’t, either. Listen, Jay, promise me that you’ll do what they tell you to do and nothing more. Don’t make waves.

Tension in the room ratcheted up and Jaak took a deep breath. J2 picked up her cup. All right. I promise I’ll do what they tell me to do and nothing more. On my honor.

Jaak puffed out the breath he had been holding. Thank you. I’m sorry. I don’t mean to be insensitive. Things have been moving so fast and we have to be so very careful.

They just have me doing violent things. She must have done a lot more than that.

Yes, she did. Jaak sipped his tea. He suddenly twitched and reached into his jacket pocket. Sorry, my comp just buzzed...Hello? He listened a minute. Hold on. Jay, it’s Angus. He’s at my lab and says he has a present for you.

At last a little smile. My new comp! Invite him for tea.

Jay has invited you for tea, Angus...Yes. Literally. And cookies...Yes, that she made. He chuckled, listened a moment and disconnected. He took another bite. Another comp? Why? What’s wrong with what you have?

"Not big enough. Need more power. Need more memory. Need more... J2 shrugged. There’s so much to learn."

Don’t mention the rehearsal to Angus. It will distress him. She nodded. It’ll be all right. You’ll be back here after the trial and we’ll get back to work.

Lana says I’m good enough to get acting jobs.

That’s wonderful! J2 shrugged. Jaak didn’t really think it was wonderful, but he was trying to change the atmosphere. She wasn’t smiling and her mood troubled him. She had no idea the havoc she could cause. Probably it would mean death for all of them if she rebelled. The Administrative Government of North America frowned on entrepreneurs. But she had promised, and J2’s word was indeed her bond. She had never lied that he knew of and had a nearly infantile belief in honesty.

There was more. He fiddled with his teacup as J2 went into the kitchen. Angus had assured him that after the trial the clones would be returned to the lab. Jaak’s stomach churned. How could they be sure of that? J2 was—now—under AGNA’s control. He would have to talk to Angus, but not with J2 present.

Angus arrived. As Jaak’s colleague and, at the moment, his liaison with AGNA, he was indispensable. It was Angus who had arranged for the clones to be the performers at Jemma7729’s trial. It would be a terrific test, putting them under stress, making them learn things in a very short period of time, testing the new growth acceleration. For J2, it stretched her and introduced her to the outside world, through the acting lessons and performance, and everything else. Jaak had been thrilled to have the opportunity to test their latest successes. Especially J2. Now he was scared.

J2 brought another cup and more cookies, but ignored the men as she fired up the new sleek comp unit and ran through a series of tests. Wow. This is great! Thanks, Angus.

Angus’ eyes crinkled at the corners as he beamed at J2. He was nearly half the size of Jaak, and shorter than J2. Older, as well, with steely blue eyes and white, short-cropped hair. He had been an X-Class biologist whose first assignment had been working with chimpanzees and other primates, continuing AGNA’s dubious desire to use them as workers in dangerous environments. He was not proud of that. His initial euphoria at solving the bad side effects of the in-breeding and gene manipulation, especially death of the animals, was short-lived when he realized just what he was doing. He opposed the research on all levels. He switched to teaching, after lengthy negotiations with UChicago administrators. His volunteer collaboration with Jaak had started shortly thereafter, and resulted in new break-throughs in cloning.

He was also, as J2 could attest, a whiz at electronic communication. It was his hobby, about which AGNA knew nothing. That meant her comp unit was not registered, was not traceable without a great deal of trouble.

J2 signed off and made an attempt at being a hostess, but Jaak was tense and Angus sensed she had some other agenda. They finished their tea and left with a request for more cookies. J2 was pleased. Mostly that they were leaving.

In the hall outside of J2’s quarters, Jaak stopped. Angus, are you certain of what happens after the trial? J2 and the others will be coming back here?

That’s the deal. Angus had a rueful smile. I impressed upon my colleagues at Justice that they’re expensive, valuable, and irreplaceable lab rats.

Jaak nodded, but still looked troubled.

Why? Angus continued. Is there a problem?

Jaak sighed. I don’t know. I worry about J2 being co-opted by AGNA. They think she’s a talented actress.

Angus laughed. Separation anxiety, my friend. Afraid to let your kid cross the street alone.

Maybe.

Well, good night. Don’t worry. We’ll get our babies back. He turned and walked down the hall.

Jaak mumbled good night, but he didn’t mean it.

Before the door had closed, J2 had fired up the comp again and connected it to her monitor. There was something she needed so desperately that sweat began to glisten at her hairline.

You’re there. I know it, she whispered. Where? Where are you?

It required concentration. AGNA’s encryptions were serious but porous. So many people used the AGNA net, with varying degrees of competence and interest, that it took patience and little else for a hacker to retrieve just about everything. J2 was no ordinary hacker.

There! J2 saw the link and grabbed it and then her hands bounced back from the little device, hovering above it like a bird of prey about to stoop. She puffed out a breath to get control of her excitement.

Justice Facility 247 surveillance cams. Many many many. Her fingers moved methodically. One by one she pulled up the images: doorways, halls, rooms, offices, people doing things, more doors, more hallways, cabinets, more rooms, guards, pipes, garages, doorways, more rooms, cells.

When she found it—the precious place—her hands once more rose above the keys and she had to stop. Think. Catch her breath.

She touched the key to activate.

Jemma7729. In a white room. Everything white: floor, ceiling, walls, and brightly lit, Jemma’s dark hair the only relief. She was dressed in white, barefoot, and lying on her back on the white bunk, one arm flung over her eyes to keep out the light. Her toes were moving.

J2 stared, then slowly reached her right hand out to touch the screen. There you are.

She sat back, barely breathing. She was there. Jemma7729. Alive. J2 marked the link.

"Hello, Jemma. We’re here. Together...Wake up. Do something. I need to know how you move. I need to hear you talk. I have to play you!" The woman in the room didn’t respond.

For the next hour, J2 watched the screen. Jemma shifted her position once, stretched her legs once, took her arm away from her face for a brief, startling, moment.

J2 leaned closer to the tiny screen. I wish you could hear me. She stretched and sighed.

She had learned something. Jemma was not agitated, at least not openly. What did it mean? She was resigned? uncaring? doped? or something else?

J2 went into her kitchen and made a pot of coffee. Seeing Jemma excited her. She wasn’t sleepy and she had to think. She rummaged in her cold box, found some cheese and an apple. She got a cup of coffee, loaded it with cream and sugar, and returned to her sitting room. Her eyes traveled over the jungle motif.

White. I’ll have to do this over in white. I need to know how that feels. Fritz will be unhappy. She grinned at herself. No, he won’t. He’s an alter. Nothing bothers him. Besides, he does what I tell him to do.

That settled, she spent the next hour programming her