Beta Page 3

  “Just kidding,” says Ivan as he returns to a standing position. He extends his hand to help me stand back up. “I didn’t even know they were making teen Betas now.”

  “Good boy!” Mother says to Ivan. “Now you have a companion when you want to roughhouse. Someone your own age, so you won’t accidentally harm our delicate little Liesel.”

  Delicate little Liesel squeals with delight. “We got a Beta! We got a Beta!” She is a skinny ten-year-old girl with only the faintest hint of adolescent development in her chest and hips, and has coloring like Ivan’s and Mother’s. “Can I show her to her room, Mother? Pretty please?”

  “No,” Mother says. “That’s why we have clones, darling. To do the work.” Mother addresses the clone standing nearby. “Xanthe, please show the Beta to the old nanny’s quarters off Astrid’s room. I’ll be there soon to help her settle in.”

  The housekeeper, Xanthe, appears to be in her early twenties in human years. She has pale white skin, with bobbed black hair and angled fuchsia eyes. She is vined in holly, symbolizing domestic happiness. I follow her down a long hallway with glass walls looking over the ocean on one side and vibrant gardens on the other.

  “This is an excellent household,” I say to her, to make conversation, and to let Xanthe know that she must be doing a great job keeping it so tidy.

  “Why wouldn’t it be?” she responds.

  “I don’t know. This is the first house I’ve been to here.”

  “It’s all the same, any house on this island,” says Xanthe. “Harmonious and beautiful.”

  I am to take over the former nanny’s quarters attached to my new faraway sister Astrid’s bedroom. It’s small but functional. I have a bed, a chest of drawers for clothes, a desk, and a window overlooking the ocean. Astrid and I even wear the same size. Mother gives me a box from Astrid’s wardrobe to fill my own closet. “Astrid never wore most of these clothes,” says Mother. “She has such a gorgeous figure for wearing these tight jeans and teeny tank top styles, but she preferred that awful grunge look. So unfortunate, the trash-bag hempwear the peaceniks wear on the continents. But you should be a perfect fit for all these clothes I bought for my fashion-sourpuss daughter.”

  “Which outfit shall I wear?”

  Mother consults her diamond bracelet watch. “The children love to play in the pool at this hour. Put on of one the bathing suits so you can join them.”

  While I change in the bathroom, I hear the Governor join Mother in Astrid’s room. He is indeed not happy about my arrival into his home, and he is not shy about arguing loudly with his wife.

  “I told you, no more clones!” he hisses at his wife. “Especially a teen Beta! What were you thinking? The island treaty with the Mainland only covers adult clones, and they’d take away those if they could! Do you realize the political fallout you’re exposing me to? You’ve outdone yourself with this frivolous purchase.”

  Mother sounds unconcerned. “Don’t be ridiculous. Elysia’s a gentle little angel. You will love her.”

  “That has nothing to do with it.”

  “Dearest. A teen Beta! We’re the first to own one! I had to have her. I promise I won’t buy any more.”

  “She is a teenager. She will turn Awful.” I datacheck teenage Awful and learn that rapidly changing hormone levels in teenagers can sometimes cause them to act out in wild and insolent ways, which their adult keepers approximate as “Awful” behavior, but generally the adults tolerate these behaviors as teens just “acting their age.”

  “You don’t know that.”

  I know that. I will not be an Awful teen Beta. My chip will ensure that I always know how to behave like a good girl.

  “But why risk it?” says the Governor.

  Mother says, “If she doesn’t work out, we can return her. Is that enough for you?”

  I silently vow never to act out in a way that could cause me to be returned. I must prove worthy of Mother’s decision to buy me and make me part of her home and her family.

  The Governor says, “I’m serious. No more impulse purchases like this.”

  “I promise,” says Mother.

  “And I promise you. If this goes awry, it’s your Relay credit chip that will be cut off.” His tone turns playful. “Or cut out, from your arm!”

  Mother laughs. “You are such a tease, Governor.”

  AS I STEP OUT ONTO THE POOL DECK, MY NEW brother Ivan’s reaction to his sister’s replacement wearing her bikini is quite concise: “Whoa.” At first I think he is speaking nonsensically to me, but then I datacheck this word—whoa—and learn that it is native to eighteen-year-old males.

  I understand now why Astrid shunned the bikinis Mother purchased for her. I can’t imagine why any girl would want to wear such a thing. It’s barely a collection of strings. It really should be called a “lounge costume” as it offers little of the support a body needs for actual swimming.

  “Whoa to you too, Ivan,” I answer.

  I inspect the view. The infinity pool is built on the hillside at the edge of the property, and is angled to give the appearance that the pool drops directly into the ocean below. The pool’s sapphire waters provide a warm highlight to Io’s violet-blue waters underneath. It is a partitioned pool, with a large, open, circular section that leads to a smaller grotto pool sequestered in a stone cave.

  Ivan does not want me distracted by the view, however. He thinks that the bikini-wearing Beta should jump into the pool immediately. He suggests this by splashing me with a huge wave that wets me from feet to torso. “Jump in, Beta!” he calls to me.

  “Can you swim, Elysia?” Liesel asks as she swims over to Ivan at the pool ledge.

  Observing me, Ivan tells Liesel, “She has one of those girl bodies, like her First was either a major athlete or she was one of those skinny, built girls who don’t eat but then pudge out after they have babies, like Mother.”

  “Mother is not pudgy,” I assert, defending my slender benefactress’s honor.

  “She was till the nutritionist at Haven put her on that starve diet!” says Ivan cheerfully.

  “Maybe Elysia’s First had anorexia and that’s how she died,” Liesel speculates.

  Ivan throws his hands up. “Liesel! Dude! You shouldn’t even know what anorexia is.” He then points at me. “And there’s no way that clone’s First had anorexia.”

  “How do you know?” asks Liesel.

  Ivan leans over to whisper something into Liesel’s ear, causing her to giggle and stare directly at my bikini top.

  “Oh,” Liesel says, nodding her head in wonderment. “So that’s what ‘stacked’ means.”

  Ivan splashes Liesel. “Don’t say that in front of her.”

  “Why not?” says Liesel. “She’s a clone. She doesn’t care.”

  It’s true. I don’t care who thinks I’m stacked. I am neither offended nor flattered. I’m just…I look down at my round, full breasts…stacked, apparently.

  And I, too, am curious to know if I can swim. How will I know until I try?

  I step to the edge of the infinity pool. I dangle my toes, dipping them in and out, swishing them through the water. The water feels warm and inviting. It’s as if the water zaps me when I touch it—a current that calls to me.

  Ivan and Liesel resume their game of aqua “Horse” as I test the water with my toes. The siblings’ game is not a fair one. Ivan is a burly young man with a wrestler’s physique. Delicate little Liesel has nothing to anchor herself against his strength; I understand now why Mother required a teen companion for her teen son. But Liesel plays along with Ivan in delight, seeming pleased to be the object of her big brother’s attention.

  Dive. I feel like that’s what I’m supposed to do. I walk over to the springboard built over the deep end of the pool, and instinctively I bend my knees.

  “Do it!” Ivan calls out. “Dive!”

  “Go, Elysia!” Liesel says, encouraging me.

  My calves spring me forth, up and then over.

  I can
dive! The movement comes naturally, feels graceful.

  The water envelops me and I imagine it is like a womb that nurtures those not created in a human-duplication machine. It is warm comfort. It is safety. I can’t believe how beautiful the feeling is, my skin drinking in this soft water. This moment is like a miracle. A few weeks ago, I wasn’t even alive. A few weeks ago, my First lost her life, and I gained her body and this fascinating new existence. Now, I experience this gift called life by swimming in my new family’s pool located on the most luxurious island on Earth.

  As my arms press through the water’s resistance, I realize: I am a strong swimmer. Beneath the water, I experience a moment of recognition: I am supposed to be in the water.

  When I come up for air, Ivan and Liesel are staring at me with stunned expressions.

  “Do you think your First was a diver?” Liesel asks me.

  “I don’t know,” I sputter.

  “That was, like, an Olympics-worthy dive,” Ivan says. “Our new Beta sister is amazing!” He and Liesel high-five each other.

  “What else can you do?” Liesel asks.

  I dive back underwater and do a handstand, and under the water again, I experience something else. I hear a voice calling to me: Z! Over here! Z! The voice calling to me rips at my heart, jolting my balance. I must flip the handstand over and return to the air again.

  I am so confused. I feel blindsided, probably by the sun’s bright burst directly onto my exposed skin. “What’s buzzing?” I ask my new siblings. I rock my head left and right. Do I have water trapped in my ears?

  My new siblings appear confused too. “Nothing,” they both respond.

  Maybe I just imagined the Z sound under the water.

  “Anyone can do a handstand,” Ivan says, swimming toward me. “How are you at water wrestling?”

  He lurches toward me, grabbing my arms from behind me. I bend down and flip him over my back. Again, I experience recognition. Somehow, I know: I’ve done this move before. I know exactly how to water-wrestle with a strong male.

  Ivan tumbles back into the water as Liesel laughs in delight.

  I see Mother watching us through the glass patio doors. She is smiling. I am fitting right in, doing my job exactly as she’d hoped.

  Ivan returns from beneath the water.

  “She got you!” Liesel teases him.

  “That was a good move, Elysia,” Ivan says. “Astrid was so boring to play with. She just wanted to sit by the pool and read prehistoric Communist manifestos. You’ll be much more fun.”

  Liesel jumps onto me from behind for a piggyback ride, splashing water at Ivan. “Catch us! Catch us!” she squeals.

  She holds on to me until Ivan catches us and throws her off me so he can wrestle me on his own, fair and square. He is stronger than me, but I am more agile. He grabs me in a tight hold, but I wrap my calf around his knee to break myself free from his grip. The amount of resistance is just right—we are well-matched in this game. I dive underwater and swim the length of the pool’s floor, coming up for air before he’s lumbered halfway back to catch me again. I dive under again and swim around his legs to taunt him before he can grab me in another hold.

  Beneath the water, I realize something for certain: I have done this move before—swum around a boy to tease him. And now I can see this male’s long, strong legs. I understand by the size and form of the muscles in my vision that the stranger’s blond-haired legs belong to a swimmer—a serious swimmer.

  This is not right.

  I swim away from Ivan’s legs to rid myself of this false image, stroking toward the underwater tunnel that leads to the grotto side of the pool. But the underwater sprint only brings another apparition: a face to go along with the serious swimmer’s legs. I see a young man, sun-kissed, with the looks of a historic California surfer god—golden skin, blond hair, turquoise eyes, a torso sculpted into the human aesthetic of muscular perfection. It’s as if his deep blue eyes are staring right at me, recognizing me, inviting me. His full red lips part to say something: Z! My heart clenches, longing for him, needing to touch him, immediately. I reach out my arms for him. I must touch him, I must, I must, but the excited, almost desperate gasp of my breath causes me to gulp water, and I am forced to rise back to the surface before I reach the passage to the grotto.

  I cough, trying to expel the water from my lungs and regain my equilibrium. Ivan and Liesel swim to my side and supportively pat my back.

  “You okay, champ?” asks Ivan.

  I’m possibly not okay. What I saw under the water was a vision that belonged to my First. I don’t know how I know this, but I do.

  I remove the negative thought from my mind. This family bought an unfeeling clone, and that’s exactly what they’re going to get. They deserve only the best. I will be that best. My body quivers, shaking off whatever impossible thing just happened beneath the water.

  On the pool deck, I see Xanthe, the housekeeper, tidying the area around the pool, picking up wet towels from the ground and spreading them out to dry on the lounge chairs. For a moment, our fuchsia eyes lock and she nods at me, as if to assure me that I am doing my job well, just as she is doing hers. Xanthe is like me, only she is meant for work and I am meant for play.

  “Do you need a rest?” Liesel asks me. She rubs my arm tenderly as my coughing spell finishes.

  “I most certainly do not!” I say, splashing her and inciting a new round of delighted squeals from my new little sister.

  Like Xanthe, I know how to do my job.

  THE SUN AND THE POOL PLAY HAVE FAMISHED Liesel and Ivan. They devour their dinners while I sip my strawberry shake.

  “Do you like macaroni and cheese, Elysia?” Liesel asks me between greedy bites. “It’s my favorite.”

  “Don’t be a dork,” Ivan says. “You know clones only drink strawberry shakes.”

  “I might like vanilla shakes too,” I say.

  The family laughs as if I am hilarious.

  As a courtesy, full servings of the same foods the humans are eating have been placed on my plate, even though nutritionally I only need the strawberry shake to survive. I have grilled tuna, a salad, and a side serving of macaroni and cheese. I can process the human food, but not enjoy its taste. It would be pointless for me to eat their food, as all the nutrition they intake from their meal I can get from one single shake. The strawberry shakes have adequate flavor, but I’ve been told the shakes’ chemical components are abhorrent to human tastes, so I don’t have to be polite and offer them sips of my special drink.

  “You should try the macaroni,” Liesel advises me. “It’s awesome.”

  I have never tasted food besides Dr. Lusardi’s strawberry shakes. I look toward Xanthe, standing at a discreet distance behind the dinner table, ready to serve and clear the meal as needed. Xanthe tactfully nods at me. I should try.

  I fork a piece of macaroni that’s on the plate in front of me and place it in my mouth. The pasta feels soft inside my mouth while the cheese flavor dances across my tongue. Ohmygoodnessthisissogood. My mouth feels infiltrated with…delight? I datacheck the setting delight and learn that it is a state of extreme satisfaction, a high degree of gratification. Indeed, I am extremely gratified to chew such cheesy goodness. My stomach seems to be signaling my mouth, More more more, please!

  It’s like my wiring is tripping all over itself. My chip tells me to express delight at the humans’ food, but my stomach says it is indeed delighted. Whoever invented adding melted cheese over starchy goodness was surely the most brilliant human ever.

  But. I should not be able to take pleasure from taste. I should only know how to express pleasure without actually feeling it. I should not eat another bite. Yet I can’t help myself. I want more macaroni and cheese. I cannot understand how the humans don’t eat this flavor combination for every—single—meal.

  I chew and swallow the remaining portion of my macaroni and cheese, and even though I want to ask for another large portion, I don’t. I return to my safe strawber
ry shake.

  It’s not possible I could have enjoyed an unnecessary piece of carbohydrate. Clones have taste buds that can distinguish flavor but not take pleasure from it. This is what I was told.

  “What did you think?” Liesel asks. “It’s great, right?”

  “Completely awesome,” I assure her.

  Ivan chuckles.

  “JK!” Liesel gleefully squeals.

  “What’s JK?” I ask.

  “Just kidding!” Liesel and Ivan say at the same time.

  Oh, that again.

  Mother beams at me, then shoots a glance at the Governor, sitting at the head of the table. “Did I not say she’s a delight? She’ll even try Liesel’s macaroni and cheese, just to please us.”

  It really was awesome. I was not being kind or JK.

  But they don’t need to know that. At no point during orientation was I instructed to reveal any Beta quirks that might arise, such as an unfortunate (but fortunate!) sense of taste.

  “She’s a natural in the water too,” Ivan says. “I bet her First was an athlete.”

  “Now, there’s an idea,” the Governor says to Ivan. “You need to be kept occupied until you start basic training. If Elysia is so athletic, she could be your fitness companion. Get you ready for the Base. Give the Beta some actual use here instead of just pretending to like human food to please you.”

  Rather than university, Ivan is soon to follow in his father’s footsteps and enter into military service. He will join the elite private army that trains on the Base, the giant military compound on the Mainland that extends for a hundred miles, from the ocean into the desert. The army and its Base are owned by the same people who live on Demesne, but the army protects those powerful people elsewhere. On peaceful Demesne, no army is needed, and also would be an aesthetic nuisance.

  “Cool!” Ivan says.

  The Governor turns to me. Like his son, he is a large male, but with a rigid, authoritative demeanor. The Governor boasts, “Five generations of the men in this family have risen to the rank of general. One day Ivan will be the sixth. Elysia, you will help Ivan with physical training to get him into top shape for boot camp. He leaves in three months. He can use this time to prepare.”