“Where do I come from?” 642 asked. He picked up a jar full of matter and peered inside.

“You’ve seen the birth tanks,” L’othaim replied. “You know where you came from.” He was busy jotting something down in a research notebook. It was about 642. He’d already filled two research notebooks with observations about the boy.

Several weeks had passed since L’othaim had first noticed 642 roll his eyes. Now, it was becoming a regular weekly routine for 642 to come to L’othaim’s office in the late evenings. The two talked, exchanged knowledge, L’othaim from experience and the boy from the virtual books he’d read. He was full of questions about the world. About the universe.

No one had caught on to their late-night meetings yet, and 642 was good at pretending to be like the others.

“No,” 642 shook his head in response to L’othaim. “I am something else.” He said it so decidedly, so calmly. He knew he was different. He was smarter. And, as he liked to tell himself, he had a nicer face than all of the other clones.

L’othaim paused halfway through writing a sentence. He glanced at the child. “How do you know?”

642 set the jar down. He gave a shrug of his shoulders. “I have the best face. And I try to talk to the others, and they don't know what I’m trying to talk about. They don’t even try. It’s like I have a brain and they don’t. Why are they so stupid?”

L’othaim took a deep breath and thought up some sort of answer.

How to explain to this boy that he was an experiment?

L’othaim hadn’t told him what he’d done.

642 couldn’t know. The truth would hurt him; L’othaim was certain of that. What’s worse is that he might try to escape the facility with this knowledge and get himself hurt.

L’othaim set down his book and turned to face the boy. “They are meant to be that way. And you... you are supposed to be like them. You have to pretend to be just like them.”

“I know,” 642 nodded. “You always tell me to. But why?” He tilted his head, young eyes curious. He was so full of life. He seemed more human every day, more like a regular child.

Looking at the boy made a heavy guilt rise in L’othaim’s chest.

What have I done?

He’d created a boy so human, and he had no place in the world. The boy was destined to be stuck here forever or killed if he resisted his superior officers, and L’othaim knew for certain that he’d resist authority at some point. He was proving to be more rebellious the older he got. But L’othaim didn’t voice any of this aloud.

“Your superiors,” he said slowly. “Will kill you if they find out you are different.”

“You are my superior,” the boy pointed out.

The old man sighed and rubbed his face wearily. “Not in that way. I... I cannot help you. They will kill you. Understand?”

642 was stubborn. He shook his head. “No, that’s not enough. Why was I born? Why were any of us born?”

The nightly alarm bell rang. It was late again and the facility was shutting down.

The tale has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.

L’othaim quickly stood up, “You must get back before they notice you’re gone. I’ll call a guard.”

642 stepped in front of the old man. He stared L’othaim right in the eyes. “Why was I born?” He repeated. Something flashed in his eyes. Was it anger? This was new for him.

“Next week,” L’othaim looked away. He couldn’t bear confrontation. “I’ll tell you when you visit next week.”

“I won’t come back,” 642 stated, with a strange coldness in his voice. “You’re keeping secrets. But I’ll find out without your help.”

A guard escorted 642 back to his room ten minutes later.

The next week, true to his word, 642 did not come back to see L’othaim. In fact, he stayed away for the remainder of the year. L’othaim did not summon him.

L’othaim hadn’t expected such a stubborn streak in the boy. He continued to observe and watch the clones as they grew, along with a few other scientists. He and 642 saw each other regularly from across the room but they never spoke.

L’othaim missed him. He’d enjoyed their weekly chats. He was lonely, if he were to be honest. At this old age he had no one else to talk to. 642 had been a good companion.

L’othaim had sometimes wondered, perhaps, if he could retire and somehow take 642 with him. He could give 642 the freedom he wanted and L’othaim could have a friend in his last years. But this was impossible. And dangerous.

So he distanced himself from the boy, wishing things had gone differently. Perhaps 642 would work things out on his own.

♦♦♦♦♦♦♦♦♦♦♦♦♦♦♦♦♦♦♦♦♦♦♦♦♦♦♦♦♦♦♦♦♦

Another year passed. The troop of clones had now been aged to the equivalent of fourteen-year-olds.

By this age, 642 was beginning to show a significant difference from the others. He was stronger, faster, and quicker to react than the others.

L’othaim was glad to notice this. He had succeeded in making a better soldier. A super soldier. 642 was on his way to becoming invincible.

Unfortunately others began to notice the difference, too. The clones did not. But the officers in charge, who were not clones, watched 642 with growing concern.

Nothing came of it until one evening, when an officer showed up to L’othaim’s laboratory. He showed up and knocked on the door.

“Oh, good evening, Colonel Hiver.” L’othaim’s heart stopped when he saw him. He let the officer into the room. “What can I help you with?” His heart was thudding in his chest, and he hoped it didn’t show in his voice. L’othaim was the overlooked scientist; the background man. No one hardly spoke to him. So a visit from Colonel Hiver could only relate to 642. Had they found him out?

“Evening, doctor,” Hiver replied, glancing around the cluttered room with distaste. He turned back to L’othaim. “I will get straight to the point. It has come to my attention that one of the clones had been sent to see you here for a series of weeks. The different one, 642. None of the clones have ever acted the way he does. I want to know the reason.”

L’othaim swallowed. What could he do? What should he say? Not the truth. It was too soon. It would ruin him.

“Yes, I...” He thought quickly. “I noticed his abnormalities last year. I am not sure what the cause is... There must have been a mistake when his life form was small.” Did he sound convincing? Could he get away with this? “I had been trying to correct his defects. He no longer visits my office.”

“Did you succeed in correcting him?” Colonel Hiver raised an eyebrow. So far, he seemed to believe the old man’s story.

“I thought I had,” L’othaim nodded. His thudding heartbeat slowed just a little. “But you can see, he is stronger than the others. I cannot fix that. But perhaps it shouldn’t be fixed.”

If this worked, and 642 became glorified and promoted for his enhanced abilities, then L’othaim would feel confident enough to tell the truth. The credit would all go to him. But not yet. In the early stages like this, L’othaim could be arrested. Maybe even executed for crimes against the planet.

“Indeed, he is,” Colonel Hiver nodded slowly. He looked around the room absently, thinking.

L’othaim followed the colonel’s eyes around the room.

I hope my research notebooks aren’t visible.

That would give everything away.

“Alright,” the colonel said finally. “This could be a benefit to us. I always said we could use some enhanced soldiers. Even if this one had been a mistake. We shall see how he does. But tell no one else about this yet.” If 642 turned out to be a perfect soldier, Colonel Hiver was planning on taking the credit. No one else should know about it yet.