HOME | DD

Description
"Father... it hurts..."
"I'm sorry, sweetheart. It will hurt for a while-you know how long it took for some of the other Children to recover, don't you?"
"You gave them medicine."
"We don't have any more, dear. We've been out for a while, and we can't manufacture any more."
"Can't you do anything?"
"Do you want to hear a story, Penelope?"
"A... a story?"
"It might ease the pain a little."
"Yeah. I'd like that, Father."

"Long before you were born, I met a woman who called herself Anne. She came to me, having heard of my advances in genetic research. She told me that she carried very special qualities in her genes... You know what genes are, don't you?"
"They're the reason I remind you of Mommy."
"That's right. Anne told me that she needed her genes to be passed on to a child... but she couldn't have a child of her own."
"Why not?"
"She needed to pass on a very specific set of genes. If she were to bear a child in the normal way, the odds of that happening would be slim-perhaps even impossible. She needed me to isolate these genes, and with them, create a very specific type of clone. Do you understand, Penelope?"
"Yes, I think so. Did you help her?"
"I did."
"Why? Isn't that sort of thing... un... uneffical?"
"Unethical, darling. And no, it wasn't. Research needs to continue, to benefit mankind. What could be more ethical than doing exactly that? I had never had an opportunity to do anything nearly this useful. I had performed similar experiments on rats, but nothing on as grand of a scale as creating life out of raw genetic code... But that wasn't the only reason I took the job.
"Anne told me something incredible over dinner one night. Before we went our separate ways, she grasped my hands, stared straight into my eyes, and told me this: if I would help her, I would be greatly rewarded. Not with money, or power, but with an inextricable connection between our families. Not only that, but if we were to succeed, then we would create a bond between man and the gods, a perfect defense against all evil. Now, as Huck would say, I didn't take much stock in religion. But the way she looked at me that night... I knew she was telling the absolute truth.
"We spent a very long time trying to work out the perfect genetic structure for the child. After much work, we found what we believed to be the ideal combination. Nine months later, Anne gave birth to a baby girl. But what we soon found out was that we were wrong. This child was terribly aggressive... she wouldn't even bear to be near her mother."
"What did you do?"
"As the old adage says, 'If at first you don't succeed...' We just tried again. We looked for ages to try to find what had gone wrong. Eventually, we discovered that the key to the aggression lay in the gender of the child. All it took was a Y chromosome, and we had achieved perfection.
"At this point, your mother and I were also expecting a child. You. Oh, you should have seen the three of us... We were young, happy, and excited to see what the future would bring. Anne and Julie had become best friends, and would often spend their days together, fantasizing about their lives to come, how you and Anne's child would be friends... We were delighted when we learned that the two of you would share a birthday."
"What? Really? He had the same birthday as me?"
"Yes. In fact, you were born within minutes of each other."
"Wow. Will I ever get to meet him?"
"I'm... getting to that, darling. You see, just days after you were both born, Anne left. She didn't tell us where she was going, or what she was going to do... she just left. But before she did, she thanked us for everything we'd done for her, and said that if we ever needed her, all we would need to do is ask. Then she gave us a gift. Do you remember the locket your mother used to wear, before she went away?"
"Yes. Was that the gift?"
"She gave it to us as something to remember her by. And then, as quickly as she had come into my... our lives... she vanished. Not long afterwards, the accident happened, and... we ended up here. I never got the chance to see her again."
"But she's still out there, right?"
"Maybe."
"Then I'm going to ask for her help, every day. Maybe Anne will get us out of this place! Maybe she can send us home! You said she had connections with the gods... If they can create tidal waves and turn into swans and single-handedly turn the tide of a great battle, I'm sure they can send us home."
"Oh, Penelope... Those are just stories."
"Maybe they'll guide her son to me. Kind of like Athena did for Odysseus!"
"Perhaps, Penelope, you're closer to your namesake than we think. However, there's no way to know... If you wish to ask Anne, or the gods, or whoever you wish for help, if it makes you feel better, that's fine. But please, don't be too disappointed if your wishes aren't fulfilled. Stories are stories for a reason. Now... do you feel a little better? Does it still hurt?"
"No, Father. Not as much, at least. Thank you."
"You're very welcome, Penelope. Please try to get some sleep, alright?"
"I will."

Description
"Father... it hurts..."
"I'm sorry, sweetheart. It will hurt for a while-you know how long it took for some of the other Children to recover, don't you?"
"You gave them medicine."
"We don't have any more, dear. We've been out for a while, and we can't manufacture any more."
"Can't you do anything?"
"Do you want to hear a story, Penelope?"
"A... a story?"
"It might ease the pain a little."
"Yeah. I'd like that, Father."

"Long before you were born, I met a woman who called herself Anne. She came to me, having heard of my advances in genetic research. She told me that she carried very special qualities in her genes... You know what genes are, don't you?"
"They're the reason I remind you of Mommy."
"That's right. Anne told me that she needed her genes to be passed on to a child... but she couldn't have a child of her own."
"Why not?"
"She needed to pass on a very specific set of genes. If she were to bear a child in the normal way, the odds of that happening would be slim-perhaps even impossible. She needed me to isolate these genes, and with them, create a very specific type of clone. Do you understand, Penelope?"
"Yes, I think so. Did you help her?"
"I did."
"Why? Isn't that sort of thing... un... uneffical?"
"Unethical, darling. And no, it wasn't. Research needs to continue, to benefit mankind. What could be more ethical than doing exactly that? I had never had an opportunity to do anything nearly this useful. I had performed similar experiments on rats, but nothing on as grand of a scale as creating life out of raw genetic code... But that wasn't the only reason I took the job.
"Anne told me something incredible over dinner one night. Before we went our separate ways, she grasped my hands, stared straight into my eyes, and told me this: if I would help her, I would be greatly rewarded. Not with money, or power, but with an inextricable connection between our families. Not only that, but if we were to succeed, then we would create a bond between man and the gods, a perfect defense against all evil. Now, as Huck would say, I didn't take much stock in religion. But the way she looked at me that night... I knew she was telling the absolute truth.
"We spent a very long time trying to work out the perfect genetic structure for the child. After much work, we found what we believed to be the ideal combination. Nine months later, Anne gave birth to a baby girl. But what we soon found out was that we were wrong. This child was terribly aggressive... she wouldn't even bear to be near her mother."
"What did you do?"
"As the old adage says, 'If at first you don't succeed...' We just tried again. We looked for ages to try to find what had gone wrong. Eventually, we discovered that the key to the aggression lay in the gender of the child. All it took was a Y chromosome, and we had achieved perfection.
"At this point, your mother and I were also expecting a child. You. Oh, you should have seen the three of us... We were young, happy, and excited to see what the future would bring. Anne and Julie had become best friends, and would often spend their days together, fantasizing about their lives to come, how you and Anne's child would be friends... We were delighted when we learned that the two of you would share a birthday."
"What? Really? He had the same birthday as me?"
"Yes. In fact, you were born within minutes of each other."
"Wow. Will I ever get to meet him?"
"I'm... getting to that, darling. You see, just days after you were both born, Anne left. She didn't tell us where she was going, or what she was going to do... she just left. But before she did, she thanked us for everything we'd done for her, and said that if we ever needed her, all we would need to do is ask. Then she gave us a gift. Do you remember the locket your mother used to wear, before she went away?"
"Yes. Was that the gift?"
"She gave it to us as something to remember her by. And then, as quickly as she had come into my... our lives... she vanished. Not long afterwards, the accident happened, and... we ended up here. I never got the chance to see her again."
"But she's still out there, right?"
"Maybe."
"Then I'm going to ask for her help, every day. Maybe Anne will get us out of this place! Maybe she can send us home! You said she had connections with the gods... If they can create tidal waves and turn into swans and single-handedly turn the tide of a great battle, I'm sure they can send us home."
"Oh, Penelope... Those are just stories."
"Maybe they'll guide her son to me. Kind of like Athena did for Odysseus!"
"Perhaps, Penelope, you're closer to your namesake than we think. However, there's no way to know... If you wish to ask Anne, or the gods, or whoever you wish for help, if it makes you feel better, that's fine. But please, don't be too disappointed if your wishes aren't fulfilled. Stories are stories for a reason. Now... do you feel a little better? Does it still hurt?"
"No, Father. Not as much, at least. Thank you."
"You're very welcome, Penelope. Please try to get some sleep, alright?"
"I will."