looking into their eyes one might at first think that they were dull, given their blank stare; however, in reality they were simply in a state of unbroken trance. They were so committed to their thoughts that nothing in the silly “real” world mattered a pin to them.
Like Hal, many of the analysts had tubes that sprung up around them like wet quills of a porcupine, the skin folding circularly like an anus where the tube interfaced with their body. Nectar, drugs, and other substances that D_Light did not ask about flowed in through some tubes, and dark liquid waste trickled out of others. Unlike the ebony tans of the garden workers, the skin of the analysts was nearly translucent from their subterranean existence. Their domicile was deep within a windowless dro-vine mound. They stood in long bays, one after the other. Their mind interface chips were hooked directly to machines, but this apparently did not provide enough input because their otherwise minimalist bays had dozens of monitors which displayed a great deal of things that D_Light could not even guess about. Pueet told them that the monitors were as much for those supervising the analysts-the proctors-as they were for the products themselves. Since these analysts were prototype models, it was important for proctors to observe, measure, and validate their work.
The proctors also appeared to be products. One proctor was another of Dr. Monsa’s cloned daughters, identical to Pueet, Love_Monkey, Curious_Scourge, BoBo, and every other “daughter” they had seen, except that this one had a dark ribbon in her hair. The girl ignored the tour group as she scanned the monitors, and the analysts, likewise, were oblivious to her. Another proctor was an analyst himself, presumably a graduated one. This one was walking along with his tubes hooked into a hovering machine that trailed behind him, always staying just close enough to stay out of his way while still maintaining some slack.
Pueet explained that most of the analysts were playing ultra-complex strategy games against one another, as well as against others outside House Monsa. “It can be expensive to hire independent agents to pit wits against our prototypes, but it is necessary to vet the optimum designs. Those consistently successful might be grown for commercial production.”
“What about those that fail? Do you destroy them?” Djoser asked.
“Soul no! They are too expensive to design, grow, and train to just throw them away. Instead, we sell them at a steep discount to houses that could not otherwise afford them.”
As repulsive as the analysts were, D_Light knew that he was in the Fort Knox of the modern world. If you had a tough problem, a quandary of great magnitude, the best thing you could do was set one of these babies loose on it. They were the greatest weapons a player could get hold of. D_Light would have loved to get one of these for himself-even a reject-but such merchandise was way out of his price range. Individual players did not buy analysts. Only major families had pockets deep enough to own even one.
D_Light was a little surprised that he and his teammates were trusted to be here, seemingly unguarded. D_Light and Djoser were armed, and Lyra herself was a 120-pound weapon. One madman with a blade could slit one throat after another. No doubt the analysts would just stand there like cows in the slaughterhouse, he thought. Billions of points of damage could be done! D_Light had no such insane intention, nor could he imagine this of anyone else on his team. Perhaps some analyst had already foretold this fact beyond all reasonable probability, which is why they were here.
Pueet ushered them on. “There is much more to see, more than you can see in a day. More than you could see in a lifetime.”
The party was well worn out by the time they stumbled in for dinner. Dr. Monsa was present, as was Sara and her rent-aboy reject playthings from the night before. Several of the clones were there. Djoser did not remember which was which, but Moocher, with his precise memory, identified them by their distinctly colored bows and told him the present company was Curious_Scourge, BoBo, Love_Monkey (who was apparently back from the groksta), their guide for the day, Pueet, along with a new daughter who had not yet been introduced.
As usual, the clones surrounded Lily and her nubber. The nubber was carrying a few worse-for-wear flowers in one paw while holding onto the hem of Lily’s dress with its other. Lily’s dress was a frilly thing covered with flower prints and lace, similar to the ones worn by the clone girls.
Djoser had only seen flowered dresses on women (or men) who were making fun of themselves. The antiquated fashion and its supposed virtue was a joke to any mainstream player. Nevertheless, it suited Lily. Djoser marveled at the perfect skin of her arms, throat, and face, such delicate proportions. And the natural innocence and sincerity with which she carried herself was captivating. She had been designed perfectly for her purpose.
He imagined what it would be like to hold her down on her back, screaming and thrashing under him. How he would forcefully penetrate her. And as he violated her, he wondered what it would look like when he bit into her pale, flawless skin, first her forearm as she tried to fend him off, then her neck, followed by her cheek. And just as he was finishing, he would stab into one of her beautiful blue eyes and pry it out. What would that be like? How would I feel? Such an experience would be like none he had ever had before in his eighty-seven years of existence.
“It’s really not fair how pretty you are in this,” BoBo said to Lily as she pinched the fabric of Lily’s dress.
“Do you seek her approval with your exclusive chitchat simply because she is comely?” the good doctor nearly shouted across the table.
“Father, don’t embarrass me,” BoBo hissed between clenched teeth. “I was merely making an observation.”
Dr. Monsa spoke to the group with a weary voice. “A weakness in my girls. Although they are old enough to know better, they share the primitive trait of desperately wanting to please those who appear to be worth pleasing. Notice how they gravitate toward the Caucasian girl and not the lovely Lyra?”
Lyra was startled by hearing her name and turned away from Djoser to listen.
“You are sooo embarrassing!” Curious_Scourge lamented.
The doctor ignored her remark and said, “My girls have always found beauty in things that resemble themselves. I used to think it was vanity, but perhaps it is something more primitive. Like attracts like. Conceivably a useful feature in our early evolution, but a bothersome vestige in this modern day. I haven’t tracked down the genes responsible for this vestige. It is rather complex.”
BoBo pounded a small fist into the table. “My Soul, can’t I just have a conversation and you mind your own business?”
“But I too am merely making an observation,” countered the doctor.
BoBo’s face flushed. “An observation? You think I like her just because she is a pretty white girl. You think me so simple? Maybe I find her fascinating for the same reason you do!” BoBo grabbed Lily’s hand which sat limp, cupped in the little porcelain hands of the child-woman. Lily’s face was pale and her eyes glistened.
“Because of what she is,” BoBo said. “What a rare event it is to have a specimen like her in our domicile!”
BoBo stroked Lily’s hair with one hand. “Or maybe it isn’t just the fact that she is white like me or that she is a camper, but that she is a woman? I can see in her my approximate future. Oh, but wait…no such future awaits me because someone trapped my sisters and me forever in a prepubescent shell!” With that, BoBo stood, sending her chair backward and over with a crack on the hard stone floor, and then she stormed off.
BoBo’s dramatic exit sparked an end to dinner. The other girls fell in with BoBo’s lead and stomped off with their sister. Lily asked to be excused with her teddy bear. After snacking all day in the garden, D_Light could not eat another bite, and so he excused himself as well. Walking down the path, he discovered Lily, who was talking to her bear. “What a silly boy you are,” she said as the nubber tried clumsily to climb a tree from which oval milky fruits hung overhead.
“Deja vu,” D_Light said. “Have you noticed that dinnertime here is really awkward?” he asked.
Lily laughed softly. “Yeah, maybe I should just pack a picnic for my dinner tomorrow night.”
“That sounds good,” said D_Light. “Maybe I could join you and we could watch the pretend sunset together.”
Lily smiled and nodded. And then, abruptly, she walked up to only a few inches from his face. “D_Light, why don’t you tell me about yourself? Tell me about how you grew up.”
D_Light felt the urge to either step back or step into her, but he remained where he was. “I…sure, I’ll
