a Fresh Start plant there—it was probably the target of a local pro-death demonstration.
“Our sources are limited,” she continued in a bright, cheery voice. “But apparently the explosions triggered a Nine-Timer scenario that spread for about ten blocks—”
I’d bet right now Russell and his board were scrambling to cover all this up.
“Almost all clones within that radius froze up and went off-line—”
Went off-line. The PC term for “died.”
“—but as far as we can tell, this was a pocket of Six-Timers. Obviously, the mechanical breakdowns we’ve been hearing rumors about are no longer restricted to the Ninth Generation clones—”
There was a dramatic pause.
“Remember to stay tuned for our next Nine-Timer Report at noon,” she said. “And may your afterlife be even better than your life today.”
I pulled into the Fresh Start parking lot just as the broadcast concluded. Angelique’s mood changed again when she stared at the building. Almost every Newbie has some sort of reaction when they see one of our plants, based on some hidden memory of when they first got their chip, so I didn’t really pay too much attention.
I was still thinking about the report.
When I was younger, the end of the world always seemed a bit poetic. In between gigs, my jazz buddies and I would sit around and talk about it for hours, sipping coffee or whiskey, cigarettes burning, taking bets on the future.
But the bottom line was that the end was coming, whether we believed in it or not. Folks have been talking about this afterlife time bomb for the past fifty years.
I should know.
After all, it was my family that lit the fuse in the first place.
CHAPTER TWELVE
Chaz:
Sometimes my arguments with Russ were universal, no different from those that brothers have had throughout history. You got a bigger slice of pie, all the girls like you better, you always think you’re right. But lately our words carried a sharper edge, a growing hostility that was pushing us apart.
And despite the increasing tension, I still saw myself in his shadow, following in his oversized footprints.
I hated those moments. Like now. When I knew that I needed to confront him, but I also knew that somehow he was going to make me feel like I had messed up; I was the one tracking mud through the house; I was the one leaving dirty fingerprints behind that would let the rest of the world know, once and for all, that the Domingues were to blame for everything.
Majestic cedars stood outside the window, a patient audience dressed in shades of mossy green and burnt sienna. Their rich fragrance drifted through an open door, a woodsy incense that made me think of childhood. Then the VR projection flickered. Probably a power surge somewhere in the city. For an instant, the large vaulted room filled with wooden desks and spiraling dust motes temporarily faded away to reveal the plant warehouse.
Meanwhile, the debate continued, like it always had. I’d heard this dispute before. I knew there was no conclusion. No happy ending.
“What are we going to do if the media gets hold of this? Nobody expected the problems we had with the Ninth Generation clones to show up in the Sixth Generation. Almost any amount of stress will cause them to freeze up—”
“—you’re worried about the media? Have you thought about what the UN might do? Did you see what happened to that hot pocket of Six-Timers in Jaipur this morning? We weren’t able to cover it up because one of our nearby plants was bombed. All of our resources were focused there. Just like last year in Tehran and Bangalore. These pro-death organizations are out for blood—”
“—I keep telling you, the pro-death committee is not behind this. Somebody else is pulling all the strings—”
“—the experts said this wouldn’t happen for another century. The problem that was supposed to surface first was infertility. We never anticipated that the host DNA would break down this quickly—”
It was a corporate board meeting with all the Fresh Start top-level executives. All wearing their pretty-boy monkey suits and their we’re-so-very-important scowls.
Just then, Russell filled my vision, larger than life as always. Big brothers always seem too big to put into words, especially when a sizable portion of their life has been spent playing the role of father. I stood in the shadows, arms crossed.
“Look, it’s not like we were blindsided here,” he said. “We tried to make changes, to give people incentives to stop jumping so often, especially in India. But the Hindu population