“That’s a little extreme,” said Mexico, but China cut him off.
“Is it?” he demanded. “Years, he said, the last uncontaminated humans on the planet. We shouldn’t be focusing on scavenging food, we should be bringing in more people. We’re supposed to repopulate the planet with what, three women?” He looked around at their group. “How many are on this island?”
“I’m not comfortable with the direction this conversation has taken,” said Lilly.
“We’d have to get them soon,” said General Blauwitz, “before they become contaminated—and we’d have to make sure they were clean.”
“The Connecticut coast would be better than Long Island,” said Cynthia. “You’ll get working-class people with a wider skill set than just ‘gestation.’”
Dr. Shorey’s jaw dropped. “Are you encouraging them to raid the coastline for women? Are we Vikings now?”
“I’m not a brood mare,” said Cynthia with disdain. “If we’re going to do this we’re going to do it right.”
“We’re not going to do it!” said Shorey.
“Let’s all calm down and think about this,” said Lyle. “I’m sorry I scared you, I’m … pretty scared myself, and I’m sorry. The general’s plan is still the best—for now. Wait here, try to contact anyone we can, and hope there’s still a government left when the dust settles. We might need food, but we do not and will not need women.” He grimaced, and shot a sidelong glance at Lilly. “Beyond the obvious equality-based reasons for which a society will always need women. You know what I meant. The future’s going to suck, maybe not as bad as I said, but we can deal with that when the time comes. For now we’ve got a food shortage, a potential power shortage if or when the gas lines shut down, and what I’m fairly certain is a Libyan diplomatic adviser with a broken leg and a raging infection. Let’s solve these problems first.”
“Those are all important goals,” said the general, “but we can’t stop trying to make contact. A lucky break there could solve all our other problems for us.”
“We split into teams,” said Mexico. “Lilly and the general stay on the phones, the rest of us on the other problems; we can break into smaller teams when we come up with solutions.”
“The dying man is our first priority,” said Lyle. “Dr. Shorey’s medicines have been helping, but they’re not enough. We need a real doctor, or a paramedic, or … I don’t know.” He rolled his eyes. “What we really need, and I can’t believe I’m saying this, is blank ReBirth to turn him into a clone of himself. That would fix the ankle for us and solve most of his problems right there.”
“We have some,” said Shorey. The entire room gasped, frozen in place, staring at her. She looked back with wide eyes. “We’re Homeland Security’s private pandemic lab, you didn’t think they’d send us a sample?”
“We need to destroy it,” said Lilly, but almost everyone in the room shouted “no” in unison.
“We might need it,” said Blauwitz.
“We could use it,” said Cynthia.
“We can save our sick guy,” said Lyle. “The only possible good use for that lotion is medical; that’s what I told NewYew, and that’s what I’m telling you. With the limited facilities we have, turning him into a clone of himself is the only realistic way to save his life.”
“How much do you have?” asked China. “We could turn all of us into clones of ourselves.” He looked around the group, hoping for support. “It’s the best preventative measure we can take to keep everyone healthy—unless you like the idea that a broken ankle might kill you, too.”
“Our food is low as it is,” said Lyle. “Give everyone the elevated nutrient needs ReBirth requires and we’d never be able to feed everyone.”
“You’re already a ReBirth clone,” said Dr. Shorey. “Does that mean you get more food than we do?”
“It also means he lives forever,” said Cynthia, “while the rest of us age and die.”
Lyle shook his head. “You say that like it’s part of an evil plan.”
“Isn’t it?”
“I don’t have evil plans,” said Lyle, “I … barely have plans. I’m just telling you that a bunch of clones will eat more food than we, at this point, can reasonably produce.”
“If we have to start farming this island we’d be prone to a lot more injuries,” said Mexico. “Continually regenerating bodies would be a big help.”
Lyle almost laughed. “Now you’re using subsistence farming as an argument in favor of accelerating your subsistence needs?”
“Do we even have enough for everybody to use?” asked Samoa. “How many people are on the island?”
“We can manufacture more,” said Cynthia. “We know how now.”
“But we don’t have the ingredients,” said Blauwitz, “and I have yet to hear a plan compelling enough to risk a trip back to the mainland to get some.”
“Immortality,” said Russia.
“Immortality with the chance of adult-onset congenital disorders,” said Lyle.
Cynthia shook her head. “The chances of that with a single dose are infinitesimal.”
“But we could get another dose from anywhere,” said Lilly.
Shorey shook her head. “What we really need is a genetic record of each one of us now, in our current bodies. If we run into trouble later and get contaminated with chimpanzee DNA or some other nightmare scenario, we can change back.”
“Not all of us are happy with our current bodies,” said Cynthia. “I’m almost sixty—if I’m going to reset myself I want to do it in something a little younger.”
“So use Lilly,” said China.
“Hell no,” said Lilly.
“Lilly needs a new body, too,” said Cynthia. “If we do end up farming the island almost everything we can grow here will kill her.”
“I’m perfectly happy the way I am,” said Lilly.
Cynthia shot her a withering gaze. “That’s because you’re stupid.”
